


couldn't fit in only black and white

by pageleaf



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Id Fic, M/M, Multi, Pining, Secret Relationship, Threesome - F/M/M, poor costis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Gen and Irene met as children, and have been in a hidden relationship for years now. The plan is to get married, but the relationship between their countries is still fraught, and with Gen's position as Thief of Eddis, it wouldn't be looked well upon. But people are starting to notice their closeness anyway. They decide they need a distraction, something to dispel the rumors until they can be married.</p><p>Enter Costis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "Rose Gold" by Pentatonix. the full line is "Like a myth, the story of our lives/Couldn't fit in only black and white" because honestly the premise of this fic is so ridiculous it really can't fit in only black and white
> 
> notes at the end contain details about this alternate universe. some of them are sprinkled throughout the fic, some are extra
> 
> this fic takes place a couple of years after king of attolia would have taken place, so no one is a teenager, at least!
> 
> characterization might seem a little wonky at first, but that's because gen and irene have known each other since they were young, and as a result of that, there's a lot less violence and bloodshed and sadness, and everyone is a lot happier!!
> 
> bonus: see if you can spot the hamilton reference :)

“—the hell you thought you were doing, spinning around like that!” Aris shouted at Legarus as he stumbled.

Costis bit back a smile as he parried another brandish of Legarus’s stick.

“Although I should just be pleased at seeing a little creativity,” Aris continued. “I’m fairly certain I’ve seen Costis make that same move three times in as many minutes.”

Costis rolled his eyes and began to drive Legarus towards the wall. “No one asked you,” he muttered. Louder, he added, “And it wasn’t as if anyone had noticed until you mentioned it.”

He cursed as Legarus darted in and tapped Costis on the hip.

“Don’t get distracted, Squad Leader!” one of the men said cheerfully.

(Costis thought he heard one of them mutter “What would the queen say?” but it was better for everyone if he just pretended he hadn’t.)

They were having morning practice, earlier than normal because of the summer heat. Well, early for the rest of their squads—Costis often practiced by himself before dawn, and was used to even earlier hours.

There weren’t often people in the courtyard at this time. However, for the past couple weeks, Costis had been seeing a young man seated at the same bench a few yards away from the training ground. He was always alone, and never had any papers or books with him, so he couldn’t be doing anything but watching them.

Often, Costis was too busy to see his face, and the man only ever stayed for a quarter hour at most. But once, Costis had caught a glimpse of his profile during a break for water, and had felt a started jolt of recognition. He knew the man’s face, but from where, he had no idea.

The man was there now, and Costis had been sneaking glances at him for the past five minutes. Subtly, so no one (Aris) would notice, and briefly, so no one (Aris) could take advantage and best him in swordplay.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid either of those things very long.

“What—” Aris said, with an exasperated _thwack_ to Costis’s turned head, “—in the world do you keep staring at?”

Costis hissed and rubbed his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I was just—” he looked back.

The man was gone.

He sighed. “It was nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Was it the queen?” Aris grinned. “Because I don’t think getting whacked in the head with a stick would win her over.”

“Would you stop?” Costis snapped. “It’s been seven years. Even good jokes go sour after that long, and this one was never good.”

“Maybe not to you, but I find it hilarious,” Aris said, and there was an anonymous snort of agreement from one of the guards. Costis glared in its general direction.

Aris nudged him. “I guess I’ll forgive you for getting distracted, anyway, because we’re finished. Time for breakfast.”

“You go ahead,” Costis said, waving a hand. “I’ll eat after.”

Aris looked at him suspiciously. “Why, what are you going to do instead, here by yourself?”

Costis didn’t answer.

Aris rolled his eyes. “You’ve already practiced enough, Squad Leader, take the day off.”

“I already _have_ the day off,” Costis said. “I should put it to good use.”

“Do you even know the meaning of a day off?” Aris demanded. “Run some errands like the rest of us mortals, if you really want to keep busy. Don’t skip meals like a lovesick teenager.” He started to grin again, and opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” Costis warned. “Besides, I’m not skipping. I told you I’d eat later.”

Aris glared at him, unconvinced. “I’m not an idiot, Costis.”

Costis suppressed a retort. Instead, he said, “I _promise_ I’ll eat later.”

“…fine,” Aris said. “But I’m checking again this afternoon, and I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“You sound like my father,” Costis said, and ducked the swipe at his head. “Okay, okay!”

Then Aris left him alone, and Costis went back to practicing.

By the time he came out of his daze, the sun was beating down full force on the courtyard, and people were starting to populate the benches.

Costis closed his eyes. He maybe had overdone it a little. His throat was parched, and he was sweating heavily, and when he turned to look for his water skin, he swayed on his feet.

But he needed to get stronger—he couldn’t ignore the fact that despite being a squad leader for five years, and despite being praised by his superiors on numerous occasions, he still hadn’t been assigned to the palace. Everyone knew that the Third was the best, and Costis liked to believe he was one of the better squad leaders. And yet, for some reason, his squad hadn’t been deemed good enough.

Except Costis did know the reason. It was that most squads assigned to the palace had someone backing them. The Baron Erondites’s younger son, Sejanus, had served in the Third before being promoted to lieutenant, and many lords’ and ladies’ sons and lovers shared the same story.

At this point, it was looking as if the only way Costis’s squad would be assigned to the palace would be if one of them procured a rich lover. Costis would have to hope it was someone else, because it certainly wasn’t going to be him.

He wiped the sweat off his brow and stretched, spine popping. He stumbled, a little unsteady on his feet, and realized with a jolt that on top of skipping breakfast, he had only eaten some bread and an apple for dinner the previous day. Despite what Aris said, Costis was not actually trying to starve himself, and he cursed.

“Stupid, stupid,” he muttered to himself as he fought back another wave of dizziness. He looked around for his water skin, but couldn’t find it. “Where—”

“Looking for this?”

Costis spun around to see the mysterious observer from that morning. In his hand, dangling from its strap, was Costis’s water skin.

“Yes, thank you,” Costis said, all but snatching it from the man’s hand. After several long draughts from the skin, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “Where was it?”

“Over there by the wall,” the man said, pointing to the far edge of the practice court. Costis frowned. He could have sworn he had left it closer.

But he had more important things to worry about, he realized, as he took in the appearance of the man in front of him.

He was young, younger than Costis by a few years, with dark skin and long hair. He dressed simply, but in fine materials, and wore simple gold jewelry on his ears and fingers. But it was the worn leather boots on his feet, unlike anything Costis had seen from Attolian craftsmen, that stopped Costis short.

Everyone knew the Thief of Eddis was visiting the palace, and Costis was only surprised it had taken him so long to put two and two together.

“Your highness,” he said, although he was still thinking of the man as the Thief. “Thank you for the water.”

The Thief flashed him a quick grin. “Don’t thank me for your own water. Though I did bring some food. I couldn’t help but notice that you were here earlier this morning, as well.”

_So were you_ , Costis thought, but didn’t say. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the Thief (or even just the Prince) of Eddis was doing watching the Queen’s Guard practice.

“Did you have breakfast?” the Thief asked, holding out a basket Costis hadn’t noticed. “It’s nothing much, just some pastries and fruit that I stole from the hall.” There was no way to tell whether he meant that literally or not.

“...no,” Costis said.

“Would you like to share?”

Costis knew his own expression was probably incredibly dubious, but he honestly didn’t really care. “Um,” he said. “All right?”

“Perfect!” The Thief smiled brightly and gestured to a couple of benches a little ways away. “Shall we?”

What followed was probably the strangest meal of Costis’s life. The Thief wouldn’t sit until Costis did, which was notable enough. Then, after waiting until Costis was eating, he opened the conversation by saying, “Did you know you keep dropping your guard in the third?”

Costis froze with a pastry halfway to his mouth. He set it down. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry.” The Thief grinned. “I didn’t mean to criticize. It was just something I noticed while I was admiring the rest of your skill.”

Somehow, Costis managed to keep himself from blushing. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“Oh no,” the Thief said ruefully, “I’m mucking this up. What I meant to start with was that I’ve been watching your two squads practice for a few days, and I’m very impressed.”

“I had noticed,” Costis said, sardonic, and immediately wanted to kick himself. “I mean, um. Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” the Thief said, and smiled.

Costis didn’t know what to say after that, so he took another bite of his pastry.

By the time they parted ways, ten minutes later, Costis was still no closer to understanding why the Thief had sought him out.

He dismissed it as an act of royal caprice, and attempted to put it out of his mind.

 

Practice the next day was hotter than usual, and the men were sweating profusely after a half hour.

Costis was taking a moment to drink water (he had learned his lesson, thank you), when he heard a soft, “Excuse me?”

He turned around, only to see the Thief leaning against the nearby fence.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Costis said carefully. “Did you need something?” He winced at how standoffish that sounded, but the Thief merely smiled.

“No,” he said. “I just saw you sparring, and thought I would come see if you had skipped any other meals.” His voice became teasing toward the end, and Costis flushed.

“No, Your Highness,” he said. “But...thank you, for your concern?”

The Thief laughed. “Was that a question?”

Costis crossed his arms and shifted awkwardly. “No, it’s just that—I’m a little confused. You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not,” the Thief agreed, “but I do know that you’re the best squad leader in the Guard, and it wouldn’t do for the best to be seen fainting in the courtyard, now would it?”

Costis blinked. “The best squad leader?”

The Thief smiled at him, then, a smile at once warmer and more mischievous than all of his others. “Heard from the queen’s own mouth.”

Costis felt his face grow hot. “She—she said that?” he said quietly, and was mortified to hear his voice tremble at the end. But even his mortification couldn’t smother his pleasure at hearing his queen thought highly of him. He hadn’t even thought she knew his name. He almost didn’t believe the Thief, but why would he make up something like that?

“She did.” The Thief’s smile grew into a grin. “So don’t skip any more meals, all right? You have a reputation to keep.”

Costis knew he was being teased, but he couldn’t work up enough irritation to do more than raise an eyebrow. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he said dryly.

The Thief laughed at him, and Costis felt himself flushing again, though he wasn’t sure why. “I have to go,” the Thief said, “but I hope to see you later.”

“I hope so, too,” Costis said automatically, and was surprised to find that it was the truth. He watched the Thief walk away with bemusement, until he felt someone come up and stand beside him.

He turned his head to see Aris staring at him. “What?” Costis asked.

“Costis,” Aris began, his voice strange.

“ _What_ ,” Costis repeated.

“Since when do you know _him_?” Aris nodded to the end of the courtyard through which the Thief had just left.

“Who, the Thief?” Costis shrugged. “I don’t; he’s been watching our practices, and he shared breakfast with me yesterday.”

“You _share_ —wait. The Thief of Eddis is watching our practices? I don’t know whether to be flattered or suspicious.”

“Aris,” Costis began, exasperated. But then he remembered all the stories he had heard of the young Thief of Eddis, performing acts of international espionage before his fourteenth birthday. “Both, probably,” he said, after a long pause.

“Yeah,” Aris said. “You said he’s been here for a few weeks?”

Costis nodded, turning back to watch the men spar.

“Huh. He was just here a couple months ago. Does he ever spend any time actually in Eddis?” Aris frowned, turning to look as well. “Makes you wonder if there’s any truth to those rumors.”

“Rumors?” Costis asked absently, noting the way Legarus was still trying to fight prettily rather than effectively.

“You know,” Aris said, uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “About him and...the queen.”

Costis rolled his eyes. “Oh, _those_. Of course there isn’t, don’t be silly.”

“It’s not that ridiculous,” Aris insisted. “They seem to be very close.”

Costis glared at him, ready to be finished with this conversation. “Why are we gossiping when we should be practicing?”

Aris made a face at him. “Don’t be jealous, Costis,” he said, punching Costis’s arm lightly. “I’m sure you still have a cha—ouch!”

 

It was very late at night, and Costis was practicing again ( _after_ eating dinner, thank you), when the Thief approached him.

He had come up on Costis silently, watching him practice for a few minutes before Costis even noticed him there. Costis kept practicing, going through the forms he knew by heart, until the Thief cleared his throat.

“Hello,” he said, lounging against the wall. “Do you actually ever leave this courtyard?”

Costis stopped, wiping his brow. “Sometimes,” he said, “on special occasions,” and was rewarded with a quirk of the Thief’s lips. Neither of them said anything after that, and silence fell over them. Costis waited, knowing the Thief was there for a reason, and curious, despite himself.

“Listen,” the Thief said. “Listen, I have...a proposition for you.”

Costis frowned. This wasn’t what he had been expecting. “Okay?” he said slowly.

The Thief hesitated for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “I need you to pretend to be my lover.”

Costis stared. He had to repeat that a few times in his head before he could begin to comprehend it. “ _What_?”

“You heard me,” the Thief said, grinning. Any sobriety or hesitancy seemed to have left him.

“I’m...not sure I understand,” Costis said, only he was afraid he did.

The Thief propped his chin on his hand and smiled disarmingly. “I want you to pretend to be my lover,” he said, as casually as if he were asking for someone to pass him the wine at dinner.

“But—but why?”

“You have to know that the queen and I are. Well.” The Thief suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he didn’t want to talk about this.

“You mean it’s _true_?” Costis demanded.

The Thief grinned, at ease again. “Don’t sound so surprised. We’ve been friends for a very long time.” This was news to Costis, who had always heard that the Thief and Attolia had met five years ago, during the treaty negotiations. “But not everyone would be as understanding as I’m sure you are.”

Costis wasn’t feeling very understanding right now. In fact, what he was feeling was horrifyingly close to jealousy, but he nodded.

“People are already talking about us,” the Thief continued. “You’ve obviously heard the rumors, as, I imagine, has the entire court, as well as every lord and lady in the land.” He frowned. “But you must know why we can’t be open about it.”

Costis did know.

Attolia and Eddis as countries had never been the greatest of allies, and tensions between them had been growing towards outright war until the Treaty had been signed in the face of war with Sounis. The old king of Sounis had died and the war had ended before it really began; instead, the three countries had joined forces against the Mede threat, and successfully ousted it.

But a war fought side by side and a few years of peace couldn’t erase centuries of unrest. The Attolian court would never accept an Eddisian prince courting their queen, especially the youngest and least honest one.

“You can’t hide it forever,” Costis said.

“I know,” the Thief said. “We know, we—there’s a plan, I promise.” _Why are you promising me?_ Costis thought inanely. “But we need to buy a little time,” he said, “to let people become accustomed to my presence. To...improve my reputation, if you will.”

“Your reputation?”

The Thief gave him a look. “Be honest. When you look at me, do you see Eddis’s prince, or its Thief?”

Costis’s grimace was enough of an answer, and the Thief laughed. “See?” he said. “My reputation. It needs work.”

“But in the meantime,” Costis said, beginning to see where this was going, “you need to make people forget the rumors.”

The Thief nodded. “Exactly. A distraction.”

“A distraction,” Costis repeated, and remembered how the conversation had started. “Me?”

“You,” the Thief affirmed.

Costis felt the ridiculousness of the situation overwhelm him, and he laughed. “ _Me_.” He laughed again, louder, wondering what Aris would think of him pretending to be the queen’s lover’s lover.

“I can make it worth your while,” the Thief said, and smirked. Costis felt his good humor dry up.

“No,” he said.

“You would be compensated,” the Thief continued, still smirking, as if Costis hadn’t spoken. Costis’s jaw tightened, eyes narrowing. “Although I’m sure a noble guard such as yourself, with all your pride and self-righteousness, would be honored to do something so helpful for your queen. Wouldn’t you?” The Thief’s grin became suggestive, and oh, Costis knew where this was going, and he felt his face grow hot with anger in anticipation. “I’ve heard you’re very... _loyal_.”

That’s when Costis punched him in the face.

 

Immediately, he recoiled, stumbling backward, anger replaced with horror at himself. Costis had never liked bullies, but he had just hit an unarmed man who was younger, smaller, and probably less trained than he was. It didn’t matter how aggravating the Thief had been, there was no excuse.

He was just opening his mouth to apologize when he heard someone laughing. A moment later, he realized it was the Thief.

“Oh,” he said, gasping with laughter even as he touched his nose gingerly. “Oh, I knew you would be interesting.”

“So that’s it, then?” Costis said, remorse being replaced by a mixture of irritation and relief. “It was just a joke?”

Picking himself up off the ground, the Thief laughed again. “No, it wasn’t a joke. Although I admit I might have been a little...” He shrugged apologetically. “A little inconsiderate of your feelings.”

Costis crossed his arms defensively, shoulders hunched up. “You mocked me,” he said, and cringed at how childish he sounded. “How did you even know?”

“Know what? How you felt about your queen?” the Thief asked, and snorted. “You haven’t exactly been the most subtle, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that,” Costis snapped. “I can’t understand why you would want me of all people to pretend to be your—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head.

The Thief grinned crookedly. “My lover?” His grin grew wider when Costis glared at him. “I like you, you seem to have a good head on your shoulders—punching strangers and skipping meals aside.”

_You’re not a stranger_ , Costis thought stupidly, and mentally shook himself. “That’s it?” he asked, unconvinced. “That’s your reason?”

The Thief shrugged again. “I told you, Irene thinks you’re the best.” It took Costis an embarrassingly long moment to realize that _Irene_ was the queen. “And I know it sounded like I was making fun—and I’ll admit, I was, a little—but you do seem very loyal.”

“I am,” Costis agreed. It was something he took pride in. “But my answer is no.”

At this, the Thief finally seemed fazed. “Look, I’m sorry about being an ass—”

“You were an ass,” Costis said, “but that’s not it. First, I’m not sure I even believe that you and the queen are—whatever.” The Thief opened his mouth to speak, but Costis cut him off again. “Second, even if I _did_ believe you, I just...I couldn’t pretend like that. I couldn’t tell that big a lie. Not for any reason.” He ignored the sly voice inside of him that said, _Not even for the queen?_

Gen stared at him for a moment, before huffing out a sigh. “Of course you couldn’t,” he said quietly. “I suppose you wouldn’t be you if you could.”

“Well then,” he said, dusting off his knees, “I guess I should think of another plan!”

“That’s...it?” Costis said, a little surprised despite himself.

The Thief tilted his head at him, smiling enigmatically. “I know when I’m beaten.”

Costis shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Sorry,” he said. “About punching you. And, well, about not being able to help. Even if I still don’t really believe this isn’t a big joke.”

“If it were a joke, it wouldn’t be a very good one,” the Thief said, and for the first time, he looked completely serious. It was a good look on him, Costis thought idly, then wanted to smack himself.

“No,” he said. “It wouldn’t.”

 

Of course, Costis had known that the Thief of Eddis wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He had been prepared to refuse him as frequently, emphatically, and creatively as necessary to get the message across.

But he hadn’t counted on the Queen of Attolia.

 

A couple of days after the conversation, Costis was woken in the middle of the night by gentle hands shaking his shoulder. “Costis,” someone whispered, “wake up, sir.”

Costis blinked, vision blurry with sleep. “What’s wrong? What time is it?” After a few tries, he managed to focus on the barracks boy at the side of his bed.

“A little after midnight,” the boy said. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Costis sat upright. “Who?”

“I think it’s one of the queen’s attendants,” the boy said, but shrugged apologetically. “I haven’t learned everyone’s faces yet.”

“Nevermind that,” Costis said. “Thank you, tell them I’ll be out in a moment.”

The walk through the palace was uncomfortable, his boots echoing loudly off the tiled floors. Every once in a while the attendant looked back at him, her face giving nothing away, so Costis wasn’t sure if she was making sure he was still there or if she was annoyed that he was being so loud.

He looked down at her slippered feet, stepping noiselessly and gracefully, and sighed, feeling awkward and out of place. Why would the queen want to see _him_?

When they reached the queen’s apartments, the attendant entered without acknowledging the guards on either side of the door. They nodded at Costis, and he nodded back, trying not to show his nerves.

They went through the guardroom, past the squad stationed there, into an anteroom. From there, they entered a receiving room, and from there into a small candlelit room—where the queen sat at a desk, writing on a piece of vellum.

The attendant gave him a prompting look and left the room. Costis gathered his courage.

“You asked for me, my queen?”

Attolia glanced up from her writing desk and just _looked_ at him, taking in his straight posture and his (terrified, Costis was sure) expression with a sharp eye, looking at him inscrutably while Costis sweated under her gaze.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I have a proposition for you.”

And just like that, Costis knew.

_No_ , he wanted to shout, only of course he didn’t. He felt stunned, speechless with the thought that _the Thief wasn’t lying to you, he was telling the truth, they really are—_

“My queen?” he asked, voice cracking horribly, and she smiled. He thought she seemed a little sympathetic, but that didn’t make any sense with the queen he knew.

But then again, the queen he’d thought he’d known wouldn’t have been involved with _this_.

“I see you’ve figured it out,” the queen said casually, finally setting down her quill. “Gen told me you didn’t believe him, and I thought perhaps you would believe me.”

_Gen_ , Costis thought wildly. _She calls him ‘Gen’ and he calls her ‘Irene’ and nothing makes sense._

Out loud, he exhaled slowly, pulled himself together. “I do,” he said slowly, then swallowed. “But that wasn’t the only reason I said no, my queen.”

The queen raised an eyebrow at him, and he flinched. This wasn’t how he wanted Attolia to think of him—as the guard who told her ‘no.’

Still, he forged on valiantly. “I don’t think I have it in me to tell that big a lie,” he said.

“Hmm,” the queen said, turning her attention back to whatever she was writing. She traced a line of text with one slim finger slowly, deliberately, and Costis had to struggle not to squirm. “I think you underestimate yourself,” she murmured. “I have heard from reliable sources that you may be my most loyal guard.”

Costis swallowed. “I—I’m sure I couldn’t say, my queen.”

Attolia dipped her quill in the inkwell. “Hmm,” she said again. After a long moment, she looked back up at him, eyes intense. “I have faith that my guards are capable of doing uncomfortable things, maybe impossible things, for the sake of the country. And for someone I consider to be my best squad leader...well, I should think that would be doubly true.” Her voice was mild, but Costis shivered.

“My queen,” Costis said uneasily.

The queen tilted her head at him. “And of course your loyalty would be repaid,” she said, freezing him in place. “I understand you’ve been waiting to be appointed to the palace for quite some time. Of course you should have been there years ago, from what I’ve heard.” She shrugged. “But you know how it is. Everything is political.”

Here, she looked at him slyly, and Costis flushed, but at the same time felt his stomach drop. He was being bribed. “Still,” she said, “I’m _sure_ I could find a way to—”

“ _Your Majesty_ ,” Costis interrupted reproachfully.

The queen stopped, open-mouthed with surprise. “Oh,” she said, and then laughed.

It wasn’t as if this was the first time Costis had heard Attolia laugh. Before, however, it had always been a quiet chuckle, almost noiseless. Once, she had snorted indelicately in the face of a particularly hapless suitor, in the middle of court. It had made Costis smile for days whenever he thought of it.

This wasn’t like that. Instead, it was a louder, lighter sound—mirthful, instead of disdainful. It hit Costis like a blow to the head.

“Relius did warn me,” Attolia finally said, a little breathless. Her eyes sparkled, and Costis tried not to stare. “He was sure that neither flattery nor bribery would work, but I didn’t believe him.” She looked at him, still mirthful. “It seems your honor is true, Squad Leader. Forgive me for doubting you. But I had to try, I’m sure you understand; in my position, one witnesses many an act of greed or vanity passed off as loyalty. I had to be _absolutely certain_ I could trust you.”

“Of course, my queen,” Costis said, still a little dazed.

“Well, can I?”

“My queen?”

“Can I trust you?” Attolia pressed.

Costis hesitated. “Yes, of course, but I’m still not—”

Attolia frowned, then, and it made Costis want to do anything to make her laugh again. “Costis,” she said. “Listen to me.”

Costis froze.

“I understand this sounds ridiculous. It wasn’t even my idea.” She shrugged. “When Gen first explained it to me, I told him to call a doctor to see if he had a fever. ‘This is your great, foolproof plan?’ I think I said something like that.

“He maintained that it was a good plan, though, and Relius, my most trusted advisor, agreed. At least, he said, it was the best plan we had, and after a few days of thought, I had to agree.” The queen smiled then, a tight, brittle expression, and Costis ran a hand over his face.

“My queen...” He understood exactly what she wasn’t saying, as well as the anxiety she wasn’t voicing. He knew how important this was, but he just didn’t think he could do it. “I don’t know if I can—”

“ _Please_ ,” the queen of Attolia said, her voice intent, almost desperate. “If I had a better plan, I would use it. The only other thing I could think of was sending him away, and I just can’t.”

“No,” Costis said. “It would be too sudden. It would look suspicious.”

“Yes,” the queen agreed. “But even otherwise, I’m not sure I could.”

Something tightened in Costis’s chest. “You love him,” he said hoarsely.

The queen stared at him, and Costis opened his mouth hurriedly to apologize, but she said, “ _Of course_ I do. Do you think I would have let it come this far, taken this big a risk, if I didn’t?”

No, Costis realized, she wouldn’t have. _She loves him_. The thought circled around his head. _She loves him_. She loved him enough to ask for this, to cling to this stupid, impossible plan, to say ‘please.’

Well, then. Well.

“Okay,” Costis said quietly, because what else could he do? She had said ‘please’. “Okay, I’ll do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day began the same way it always did, with Costis practicing on his own in the cool pre-dawn air.

“Do you just enjoy hitting things in the dark?” a voice said, and Costis sighed, set down his staff.

“It’s quiet, usually,” he said. “Do you just enjoy watching other people work, or do you ever do it yourself?”

Silence, and then a snorting laugh. “Turn around, would you? You have very lovely shoulders, but I’d rather see your face.”

Costis frowned and turned around, ignoring the Thief’s grinning face to say, “Why are you complimenting my shoulders?”

The Thief raised his eyebrows at him, lounging against the wall. “Practice. If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to get used to me making appreciative comments about your physique.”

Costis huffed and wrapped his arms around himself. “Fine,” he said, looking away. “Don’t expect me to respond in kind, though.”

The Thief laughed again. All of his laughter sounded like that—low, admiring, and a little surprised. It made Costis feel warm with something he couldn’t name. “No,” the Thief said. “That would probably be a little suspicious.”

“I still have no idea how to do this,” Costis said.

The Thief pushed off of the wall, sauntering forward with catlike grace. “You won’t have to do much just yet. Maybe don’t be quite so standoffish, and not so obvious about your infatuation with your queen.”

Costis flushed miserably, but bit his lip against a protest.

“We want this to be believable, natural. Do you think your close friends would accept you suddenly falling into bed with a foreign prince?” The Thief smirked. “Because I wouldn’t, knowing what I do of you. So for now, I’ll do the actual pretending, and you just blush and look uncomfortable as usual, and maybe people will take that for budding attraction.”

“Instead of growing irritation?” Costis said dryly, and the Thief grinned once more.

“Exactly.”

 

Toward the tail-end of practice, one of the men straightened from a slouch and said, incredulously, “Is that the prince of Eddis?” Evidently not everyone had noticed the Thief watching most of their practices, but they noticed him now as he strolled up to the courtyard.

A cloth-covered basket dangled from one finger, and he was smirking. Costis fought back a scowl.

“Your highness,” he said, instead.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Aris asked, coming up beside him.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Eugenides said, eyes wide and innocent. “I just came to see Costis.”

Aris turned to Costis with raised brows, while the rest of their squads looked on in growing confusion. Costis flushed. “We’re not done yet—” he began, but Aris elbowed him in the ribs.

“Of course!” Aris said cheerfully. “Costis has probably been here hours longer than the rest of us, anyway, so I think he can depart a few minutes early.” He shoved Costis lightly in the back and turned to the rest of the men.

“The rest of us should continue sparring, though, shouldn’t we?” His voice was loud and pointed, and the gawking men scrambled to pick up their staffs, pairing off once more.

“Well?” the Thief asked, lifting the basket. “I brought breakfast.”

“I already ate,” Costis lied, and Aris laughed at him from ten feet away.

The Thief hid a smile. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

They ate nearby, on one of the benches, a simple breakfast of apples and bread with butter. Costis made a noise of surprise when he realized the bread was still warm, and the Thief laughed as he sliced an apple.

“Fresh from the kitchens,” the Thief said. “Being a prince has its benefits.”

“I’m sure it does,” Costis murmured, and accepted an apple slice from the Thief’s fingers. “And its costs, too?”

Eugenides looked at him soberly. “Of course,” he said quietly, and Costis knew he was thinking of the queen, thinking of the reason for this whole charade.

Costis cleared his throat. “So,” he said. “Is this the plan? Shared meals in broad daylight where everyone can see?”

“For now,” the Thief agreed. “As we move on, there will be gifts, and more public affection.”

Costis must have made a face, because the Thief took one look at him and laughed out loud.

“Nothing too torrid,” he said mirthfully, and Costis blushed. “A clasped hand, a casual touch. After a month or two, perhaps linked arms and a kiss on the cheek.” He eyed Costis and said, “I don’t think anyone who knows you would believe anything more than that.”

 _After a month or two_. Costis couldn’t imagine keeping up this ruse for more than a couple weeks without someone (Aris, probably) catching on. But months?

“Months?” Costis asked.

The Thief laughed at him. “Did you think this would be short-term? This has to last long enough to put the other rumors to rest. That will take a while.”

Costis sighed. “Well, then, eventually I’m going to have to do more than sit there and blush while you shower me with affection. So—your plan?”

The Thief shrugged. “Just spend time with me. For instance,” and here he smiled, pitched his voice very slightly louder, “would you care to join me for a walk in the gardens? I’ve been spending most of my time with the queen in her gardens, so I haven’t had a chance to see the public ones.”

“I,” Costis began, helplessly. He had to say yes, he knew, because of the game they were playing. But wouldn’t it seem too sudden a development to everyone else? “I’m not sure that would be proper,” he said weakly, and knew he had made the right move when Eugenides looked at him approvingly, eyes gleaming. “I hardly even know you.” Technically, it was true.

“Nonsense,” the Thief said. “It’s just a walk.” He ducked his head and looked at Costis through his lashes, such a sudden change in demeanor that Costis caught his breath. “Please?” he asked sweetly.

Oh, gods, what had Costis gotten himself into? “Fine,” he said stiffly, trying not to blush. He looked away, thankful that at least his very real discomfort was helping their game. “Yes.”

Which was how he found himself strolling side-by-side with the Thief of Eddis through the public gardens, careful to keep a proper distance between them even as the Thief kept drawing closer.

“A little subtlety, perhaps,” Costis hissed. “You want this to appear to be a courtship, yes, not just a short but ill-advised affair?”

Eugenides smiled in a way that made it very clear he was inwardly rolling his eyes. “Please, Costis, don’t be ridiculous. Besides, it’s not as if I don’t have a reputation as a rogue.”

“A reputation which is clearly false, given that you’ve apparently been in love with the queen for years,” Costis retorted. “A reputation you’re trying to repair so that you can one day marry her without the entire country storming the castle!”

Eugenides stiffened, and slowed to a halt. Costis stopped as well, and an awkward silence fell.

Finally, Eugenides said, “You’re right.”

Costis tried not to show his surprise. “I am?” he asked.

“Yes,” Eugenides said, and sighed. “I merely got a little carried away with the role.”

“It’s all right,” Costis said, and was startled to find that it was true. “As uncomfortable as I am right now, I imagine you must be feeling worse.” The Thief looked up at him unreadably, and Costis continued, “Because you are in love with someone else.”

“And you are not?” Eugenides asked casually.

Costis paused. “Ah,” he said, and swallowed heavily. “No, I am...unattached.”

“Ah,” Eugenides mimicked. “I’m not sure I believe you.” Costis bit his lip, and Eugenides smirked. “I don’t think you would be doing this if you were,” and Costis knew they were both remembering how the queen had been the one to convince him.

Costis flushed bright red.

“Please don’t tease me,” he said desperately, and the Thief’s expression turned sympathetic.

“I won’t,” he said, sounding legitimately contrite. “I’m sorry, I won’t anymore.”

“It’s all right,” Costis said again, taken aback. He looked around frantically for a new subject for their conversation, and said, “The roses are blooming nicely, aren’t they?” The air was heady with their scent, blown around by a pleasant breeze under the warm sun.

“...yes,” Eugenides said, thankfully. “There are many more varieties here than in the queen’s gardens.”

“Oh?” Costis asked.

Eugenides hummed in affirmation. “I think she likes the pale ones best. Yellow is her favorite.”

“Oh,” Costis repeated foolishly. “Huh.” He had always pictured the queen with red roses, red like the dress she wore to mimic Hephaestia, red like her lips. This new knowledge altered his mental image of her a little—but he liked hearing it. It was something real, something private.

In the corner of his vision, he saw Eugenides duck his head, and he turned to face him. “What is it?”

They were passing a pair of courtiers, strolling arm in arm, and the Thief flicked his eyes to them meaningfully. “The queen is my dear friend,” he said, “but I did not ask you here to speak of her.”

Costis rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “What would you like to speak of instead?”

“Hmm,” Eugenides said thoughtfully, then grinned. “Tell me of your family. Have you any siblings?”

“One,” Costis replied. “A sister, Thalia.”

“A sister!” Eugenides said delightedly. “Younger?” At Costis’s nod, he said, “Does she take after you then? Bull-headed and proper to a fault?”

“Bull-headed, yes,” Costis said. “Proper, no—although I’m surprised you would call me proper. I have it on authority from the Captain that I am more trouble than I am worth.”

Eugenides’s eyes began to sparkle. “Oh?” he said expectantly. “Do tell.”

Costis bit his lip to hide a smile and shook his head.

“Oh, come now,” Eugenides said, and pushed his shoulder lightly. “Don’t tease. I want to hear all about your misadventures.”

So Costis sighed, resigned himself to his fate, and launched into the story of how he almost got dismissed from the Guard for stealing a baron’s horse.

By the time he finished, the Thief had stopped walking to double over with laughter, one hand clutching Costis’s arm for support.

Costis smiled at him a little helplessly, and thought, _Maybe this won’t be so bad after all_.

 

Aris caught him daydreaming that evening in the mess hall. He was thinking about Eugenides, about his bright laughter, about how maybe in another world, they could have been true friends.

Who knew, maybe they still could be. Anyone who the queen loved that much couldn’t be all bad. And once Costis had gotten past the charm and bluster, Eugenides had been...nice. Almost sweet.

It was during that thought that Aris sat down next to him, ruffling his hair. “Thinking about the queen?” he teased.

“Aris!” Costis said reflexively, looking around, but no one had heard. And besides, he _hadn’t_ been thinking about her, so, “Why would you say that?”

Aris grinned with his mouth half full. “You get this look on your face, when you’re thinking of her. Like you’ve been hit in the head and found out you liked it.”

It...wasn’t an inaccurate description of how he felt about her, but Costis found himself laughing anyway.

“Your observational skills must be a little off, my friend,” he said, smiling wide at the chance to prove Aris wrong. “I wasn’t thinking of her at all.”

“Really?” Aris said, disbelieving. “Fine, then who?”

“The prince of Eddis,” Costis said, with maybe too much relish, because Aris looked at him sharply.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh _o_ , so it’s like that, is it?”

Costis caught his breath, and turned it into a derisive snort.

“Costis,” Aris said gleefully. “What is it with you and royalty?” By now, Costis was sure he was joking. Well. Almost sure.

It could have been something to exploit for their ruse, but Costis hadn’t even been trying. He hadn’t meant to seem like he was interested in Eugenides—in fact, he had forgotten all about it for a moment. And yet, Aris still latched onto the idea.

Costis didn’t know why that made him feel unsettled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said finally, and finished the last of his stew. “I’m going back to my quarters. Early start tomorrow.”

Aris just smirked around a piece of bread and waved Costis away.

 

“I think it’s working,” he told Eugenides the next day. The Thief had brought him breakfast again, and they were sitting in the sun eating grapes.

“Already?” Eugenides asked, surprised.

“Mm,” Costis said, chewing a grape. Swallowing, he said, “Aris teased me about it yesterday at dinner. I don’t think he was serious, but if we keep this up, he will be.”

“And if we can fool your friend Aris, we can fool anyone,” Eugenides said, popping a grape into his mouth with a satisfied air.

“I hope so,” Costis said, still not convinced they could pull this off, but gaining more faith as time went on.

 

They kept this up for a week, public walks and shared meals.

Once, another guard found them during one of Costis’s post-morning-practice practices. The guard stared, wide-eyed, at Costis (who was sweating and breathing heavily) and Eugenides (who was watching Costis fondly and not a little appreciatively).

“The—the captain is asking for you,” he stuttered out, and Costis fought between the warring impulses of blushing and bursting into laughter. He turned his head to see Eugenides smirking, and that didn’t help with either of the impulses.

“I see,” Costis said. “I’ll be there soon, just let me return to my quarters briefly.”

“Okay,” the guard said hurriedly, and turned away.

“I’ll walk you there,” Eugenides said wickedly, winking at Costis behind the guard’s back. Costis blushed. The guard scuttled away, but not before glancing back curiously a few times.

“Well,” Costis said, after a moment. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about rumors spreading.”

Eugenides snorted.

 

Costis had no idea what Teleus might want. He was hoping it had nothing to do with Eugenides, although that was probably it. But it could be about something else. Just because Costis was embroiled in the affairs of royalty, that didn’t mean that the Queen’s Guard didn’t have regular business to carry out.

“Captain,” he greeted Teleus, when he entered his office.

“Costis,” Teleus said. He didn’t look angry or troubled, but there was something else lurking under his stoic expression. “You’re probably wondering why I asked to see you.”

“Yes sir,” Costis said.

“Well, it won’t do to drag things out,” Teleus said with a sigh. “Your squad is being assigned to the Third.”

“The palace?” Costis said, shocked. Was it finally happening?

“Yes,” Teleus said. “The palace. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir,” Costis said, wide-eyed. _Don’t ask why, don’t ask why_ , he thought to himself.

“If I may ask, sir, why now?” Costis’s mouth said without his brain’s permission. Gods damn it.

Teleus stared at him, probably wondering why anyone would do anything so stupid as question a very good posting.

“Er, sorry,” Costis said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No,” Teleus said, “you deserve to know.” He sighed again, put-upon, and Costis began to worry.

“Sir?”

“It was the queen,” Teleus said. “I don’t know why, so don’t bother asking, but she requested you be assigned to the palace.”

Costis felt the blood drain from his face. Surely the queen didn’t still think she needed to bribe him? “Oh,” he said very quietly.

Teleus looked at him without speaking for long enough that Costis started to fidget.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it,” he finally said, and Costis blinked. “If you ask me, this has been a long time coming.”

Costis was speechless. He’d never heard such effusive praise from the captain, and he was equal parts ecstatic and uncomfortable.

“And you and I both know that the queen is too smart to post an unqualified guard in the palace,” Teleus added dryly. Costis nodded dazedly in agreement. “So don’t let anyone make you think you didn’t _earn_ this.”

“Yes sir,” Costis choked out.

Teleus nodded at him awkwardly, dismissing him. Costis nodded awkwardly back, and left.

 

“So, I hear congratulations are in order?” was the first thing Eugenides said when Costis saw him again.

“I just don’t understand why,” Costis said frustratedly. They were having dinner together, in Eugenides’s rooms. Costis had just finished informing the rest of his squad of their new appointment, and while he was just as happy as they were, he was very confused.

“...isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” Costis said, “but I can’t help but think I wouldn’t have gotten it if not for...well, _this_.” He gestured between the two of them.

Eugenides shrugged. “Well, _this_ ,” he repeated Costis’s motion mockingly, “only happened because the queen thought you were an exceptional guard. I don’t think she was rewarding you for helping her. I think she just...honestly thought you deserved it.”

Costis rubbed the back of his neck, ducked his head. “You think so?” he asked, looking up at Eugenides.

“Of course,” Eugenides said mildly. “And I think I would know better than anyone what the queen is thinking.”

“Ah,” Costis said, laughing awkwardly. “That’s true.”

Eugenides looked at him consideringly. “Besides,” he said seriously, then paused.

“Besides?”

“Besides,” Eugenides continued, “most people assigned to the palace have _friends_ in high places, yes?”

“Yes?” Costis said.

“So, people might think you were assigned to the palace because of me.” Eugenides smirked.

Costis blinked. He hadn’t thought of that, but now he remembered Teleus saying _don’t let anyone make you think you didn’t_ earn _this_ , and knew that the rumors had spread far enough for the Captain to have heard them. “Oh.”

“I meant that as a good thing,” Eugenides said hastily. “It means—”

“I know,” Costis said quietly. “It means our plan is working.” It also meant that few people would believe that he and his squad had truly earned this assignment, even those who knew they deserved it.

“Sorry,” Eugenides said softly, and Costis didn’t like hearing him so hesitant.

So he sighed dramatically. “The things I do for love.”

Eugenides stared at him in surprise, before laughing so hard he almost toppled over.

Costis smiled at him, feeling curiously warm, and had no regrets.

Even that night, when Costis was seen leaving Eugenides’s rooms by one of the Lieutenants, and blushed at the man’s knowing look, he had no regrets.

Over the following days, when he heard the whispers, when he saw the sidelong looks, when he felt Aris’s sympathetic glance—he still had no regrets.

He just trained more, harder, longer, so as long as people were paying attention, they would see that he _had_ earned this.

Costis didn’t let himself dwell even on the worst of the gossipers, like Sejanus and and his crowd. He ignored their smothered laughter and stifled smirks, because he had a job to do. He was serving his queen better than any of them could know, and that was worth anything.

 

“By the way,” Eugenides said the next day, within earshot of the rest of the squad. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Costis froze, water skin halfway to his mouth. “Leaving?” he said stupidly. It was as if everything in him stopped for a moment.

“For Eddis,” Eugenides clarified. He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve already been here much longer than my normal visits. But I just...couldn’t bring myself to leave until now.” He looked at Costis from under his lashes, sly.

Costis blushed and ducked his head, as if on cue, and Eugenides smiled at him approvingly. Costis didn’t tell him that it hadn’t been on purpose.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m—glad to hear that you’ve enjoyed your time in Attolia.”

“I always do,” Eugenides said, still with that fond smile. Costis couldn’t look him in the eye. “But this time more so than usual.”

 _Stop that_ , Costis thought desperately, thinking that Eugenides was laying it on more thickly than normal. He looked down at his feet, the back of his neck prickling with the weight of his squad’s gaze.

“Anyway,” Eugenides continued, and Costis breathed an internal sigh of relief, “I won’t be back for a few months at least. I’d like to give you something to remember me by, if I may.”

Costis’s head shot up. Eugenides was reaching into his bag. “Your Highness—” Costis began.

“Eugenides.”

“What?”

“You should call me Eugenides.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if people in Eddis run around calling me ‘Highness.’”

Costis pressed his lips together and said nothing.

“Here,” Eugenides said, retrieving a plain knife from his bag. He handed it to Costis.

It was heavier than it looked, and Costis could bet without even testing the blade that it was sharper, too.

“It was my father’s,” Eugenides said ruefully.

Costis stared at him, wide-eyed, and Eugenides laughed.

“No, no, nothing like that.” He grinned. “My father is the Minister of War, and he always wanted me to be a soldier. I told him I wanted to be—well, you know—instead. He was angry with me, and in a fit of pique, I stole this knife from him.” He snorted. “I thought it was plain, and he probably wouldn’t miss it, but I was trying to make a point. Little did I know that it was his favorite knife.”

Costis swallowed, rubbed his thumb along the simply-engraved hilt.

Eugenides smiled crookedly, watching him. “I don’t know why I kept it. Normally, when I take things for a reason like that, I put it on an altar, so they can’t make me give it back. But I kept this, and I don’t know why. I’ve never used it.” He shrugged. “Maybe I kept it for this.” Costis looked at him, then, and Eugenides looked back, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Please take it,” Eugenides said earnestly.

“I—” Costis said. “I don’t know what to say.”

Eugenides smiled broadly. “Just say that you’ll use it.”

“I’ll use it,” Costis repeated. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Eugenides said, and Costis could hear the honesty in his voice. “For everything.”

 

“You stole your father’s knife?” Costis asked him the next evening, still incredulous.

They were having dinner together in Eugenides’s quarters. Eugenides sat cross-legged in his chair like a printer’s apprentice, Costis sitting only a little more straight-backed in his own. The wine was very good.

“I was thirteen!” Eugenides said, laughing. “It was the beginning of my rebellious stage.”

“And when did your rebellious stage end?”

Eugenides eyed him. “I’ll tell you when it happens.”

“Still,” Costis said, “that wasn’t my point. Your father is the minister of war—how did you manage to steal his favorite knife? And at _thirteen_ , too.”

A huff of indignation, and then, “I’ll have you know I could steal anything, even at that age!”

Costis rolled his eyes. “Ah yes, I forgot,” he said. “You can steal anything from anyone.”

“Exactly,” Eugenides said.

“How could I forget the stories I’ve heard of the Thief of Eddis?” Costis said dryly. “The man who regularly steals his queen’s earrings.”

“More than one pair.”

“And an entire herd of cattle from one of her misbehaving barons.”

Eugenides smiled dreamily. “That was a good year.”

Costis snorted. “Oh, and my favorite one—stealing Hamiathes’s Gift from the gods themselves.”

Silence.

Slowly, Costis turned to look at the Thief. “No.”

“To be fair,” Eugenides said weakly. “It was only kind of stealing.”

“ _No_.”

“When it really came down to it, it was more of a...gift? More of a gift, than anything else.”

“You can’t be serious!”

Eugenides shrugged, not very apologetically. “Sorry.”

Costis frowned at him. “I don’t believe you.”

Eugenides laughed at him. “You could ask the queen? She was there for part of it.” He smirked, and added suggestively, “I know you’d believe _her_.”

Costis blushed, and Eugenides laughed again.

“I really feel like you shouldn’t be teasing me about that,” Costis said sourly. “Given that you’re, well.”

“It’s amusing, though,” Eugenides said, eyes bright.

Costis scowled at him, and he sobered. “All right,” he said. “In all seriousness, though, I think it’s important for you to be able to talk about it.”

“I don’t think so,” Costis said.

“No hear me out.” Eugenides unfolded his legs and sat forward in his chair. “You can’t tell anyone else about your feelings because you can’t tell anyone about _this_.” He gestured between the two of them, which was their way of referring to the false relationship and everything related to it.

“You have to pretend to actually be attracted to me, which means you can’t be in love with the queen. But you can’t just keep something like that bottled inside! Trust me,” he smiled crookedly, “it’s not a good idea.”

“So what,” Costis said, “I talk to _you_ about it?”

Eugenides waved a hand at the empty room. “Do you see anyone else fit for the job?”

Costis glowered down at his wine cup.

Eugenides reached out a foot and prodded Costis’s knee. “Come on,” he said. “I can be a good listener.”

“Your Highness,” Costis pleaded.

“Eugenides,” Eugenides corrected. “And please? I really think it’ll help.”

Costis just stared at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to him.

Eugenides stared back earnestly, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees.

“This is a stupid idea,” Costis said. “What do you want me to say?”

“Just tell me _why_ ,” Eugenides said. “Trust me, it’ll help.”

Gods, this was such a bad idea.

“I don’t know if I can tell you why,” Costis said. “I could probably tell you when I realized, though.”

Eugenides nodded encouragingly, nudged the wine a little closer to Costis, and Costis sighed.

“It was only a year after I joined the Guard. I think I already admired her quite a bit before joining, and of course I thought she was beautiful--I think everyone in the country does.

“But she wasn’t just beautiful, she was so strong and so clever. Some of the other guards used to get bored in court, but court duty was always my favorite, because I loved to watch the queen work. She was like...like marble, unapproachable and stern and so, so sharp.

“But she was always fair, even though some of the lords liked to imply that she wasn’t. She never showed favoritism, and they hated it, but she did it anyway. I respected that about her. But after a year—”

Here Costis paused, taking a shaky breath. Wordlessly, Eugenides refilled his cup of wine. Costis drank, taking the time to gather his bearings.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be,” Eugenides said, voice curiously gentle. “Only I didn’t realize that you. Well.”

Costis looked at him wryly over his cup. “You didn’t think I was actually in love with her, did you.”

Eugenides made a face and shrugged. “I didn’t think you really knew her.”

“I probably don’t,” Costis said. “But what I do know of her, I love entirely.”

“I can see that now,” Eugenides said, “just from the way you talk about her.”

“Yeah,” Costis said, draining his cup. “That’s why everyone in my squad knows about it. I’m...really not very good at hiding it.”

“Hmm,” Eugenides said quietly. Then, after a moment, he said, “You were about to say something, before.”

“I was?”

“Before, you said ‘But after a year...’”

“Oh.” Costis ran his hand through his hair restlessly. “Well I. I suppose I was going to say that after a year, I found out she could be caring, too. I don’t remember how it happened, but I remember that Captain Teleus was injured. Badly.”

A sharp inhale showed that Eugenides remembered it too.

“I think it was the first time I ever saw the queen scared. She didn’t show it much, but...” Costis pressed his lips together. “Her hands were trembling. I remember that. When she got the news, her face and voice were very calm, but her hands were trembling.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, and settled in to tell the story.

Many of the guard had gone to visit the Captain in the infirmary, but Costis had been on wall duty the entire evening, and didn’t get there until almost midnight. The palace had been mostly asleep, and he’d intended to just check in on the Captain. He hadn’t even planned to say anything.

But on the way there, he had been intercepted by the queen and her entourage. Costis had realized that the queen had come later to avoid seeing anyone else, and had offered to leave. But the queen had said _no_.

 _He’s your captain, too_ , she’d said. _I can wait._

So Costis had looked in on the captain, and seen that he was asleep, but that he’d seemed healthy, so Costis had turned to leave. Except...

“...except the queen was still there, only now she was talking to one of the physicians. ‘Where was he hurt? What did you give him? How long until he recovers?’ Normal questions, but said so intensely that I thought the physician was going to expire on the spot.”

Eugenides snorted, bringing Costis out of his storytelling reverie. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “It’s just--I find that very easy to imagine.” His voice was very fond.

Costis smiled despite himself. “The physician answered all her questions, remarkably calmly given the situation, and I thought the queen would be finished. But then she asked, very quietly, ‘Has he asked for me?’”

He dropped his head, looking at his hands.

“I’d never heard her sound like that before. Vulnerable, I mean.”

Costis swallowed. He had left after that, but that moment had stayed with him for six years. Since then, he had seen Attolia be kind countless times, even when others wouldn’t recognize it as such. He had even seen her scared. But that first moment, which had shifted his perception of her from someone godlike to someone _human_...well, he could never forget it.

They were both quieter after that, the atmosphere of the room more subdued. The wine bottle was still partially full, but both of them had stopped drinking. But Eugenides was leaving tomorrow, and if he was spending his last night in Attolia with Costis, then Costis should at least try to be good company.

Actually, he did wonder about that. “Why are you spending tonight with me?”

Eugenides frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Tonight,” Costis said. “It’s your last night in Attolia, and you’re spending it with _me_.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be falling for you,” Eugenides pointed out in a reasonable tone, and Costis flushed.

“Yes,” he said, “but wouldn’t you rather spend it with the queen?”

Eugenides looked at him unreadably. “Would you rather I spend it with the queen?”

Costis wasn’t really sure how to answer that. “You’re right, that this--us eating together, alone, in your rooms--helps the ruse. I know that, I’m not questioning that. But,” he paused. “But don’t you wish you could be with the queen more? You’ve spent the entire last two weeks with me.”

“That’s the point, Costis,” Eugenides said. “These few weeks were to make everyone think I’m interested in you, and only you. While I’m gone, you can cement those rumors, so when I come back, I can be around the queen without suspicion.”

“So you’re saying it won’t be like this the entire time?”

“Does any relationship stay in the courting phase?” Eugenides half-smiled. “You’ll be busier, too, now that you’re in the palace. It’ll be a good excuse for me to visit the queen, if I’m supposedly trying to get into the palace to see you.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, like a cat pretending to sleep.

“Mm,” Costis said in agreement. It made sense, but there was some part of him that was still uncomfortable. “Still,” he said. “I’ll be on duty in a half hour. You should go see her.”

Eugenides looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “I was planning to.”

“Oh.” Costis fidgeted. Eugenides closed his eyes again. Costis stared at his hands. They had been having such a nice conversation, and then Costis had ruined it.

Fifteen minutes passed, and still neither of them had said a word. Eugenides hadn’t moved. Costis hadn’t looked away from his hands.

“Costis,” Eugenides said quietly, and Costis’s head shot up. Eugenides’s eyes were still closed.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could ever fall in love with someone else?”

It was as if everything froze.

Costis stared. “Why would you ask me that?”

Eugenides just opened his eyes and looked at him.

“Why would you ask me that,” Costis whispered, putting his head in his hands. “Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that a thousand times?”

Eugenides said nothing.

Costis breathed shakily into the space between his knees, and then sat up. “I don’t know, all right? Maybe. Maybe I could.”

 _Now_ Eugenides opened his mouth to say something, but Costis cut him off with a gesture.

“I don’t know if I could ever fall in love with someone else, but I know I could never fall out of love with the queen, if that’s what you want to know. That’s something I’m certain of.”

A pause, and then Eugenides opened his mouth again. “Oh.”

Costis laughed mirthlessly. “Oh?” When there was no response, he pressed his mouth into a thin line. “I’m on duty in five minutes, I should head to my post.”

“Yes,” Eugenides said, staring into space, sounding like he had had a revelation. Costis was sure he didn’t want to know what that revelation was.

Costis gathered his things. “Safe travels on your journey back to Eddis.” He paused at the door, biting his lip. “Good night, Eugenides.”

 _That_ made Eugenides focus on him. “Costis—” he said.

“Good night,” Costis said again, firmly, and left.

Once outside, he leaned back against the closed door. He breathed out heavily. “Gods.”

And then he went to do his job.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Costis woke up early as usual. He pulled on his clothing in the dark, toeing into his boots carefully so as not to trip. He had not yet grown used to his quarters in the palace, and for the first few days, he had kept bumping into his bed and his bedside table.

In silence, fighting yawns with every step, Costis walked through the halls of the palace, casting a careful eye over alcoves and tapestries, looking for anything suspicious.

But of course, no criminal was masochistic enough to be awake so early--that was only Costis. Still, by the time he made it to the empty training yard, he was almost fully awake.

He managed fifteen minutes of exercise before he started to feel an inexplicable sense of anxiety. It wasn’t really noticeable at first, just a prickling of his neck, a tension in his shoulders. But eventually, Costis began to feel as if the early morning air was too close. The training yard--as familiar to him as the barracks, if not more--seemed too large and too empty. Everything was too quiet, with not even the birds yet awake. And Costis was _lonely_.

He pushed through it for another half hour before he sighed and punched the practice dummy half-heartedly. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know the cause of his unhappiness.

He missed Eugenides.

But it wouldn’t do to slack off because of a little sentiment, so Costis made himself keep practicing. But for the first time in years, it felt like a chore.

 

There was one problem with palace duty that Costis hadn’t anticipated, and that was more interactions with the queen.

He’d barely seen Attolia since the beginning of their plan. Only on the few days his squad was at court, and even then only from across the room.

But now, being assigned to the palace, Costis’s squad had court duty much more often. They also stood guard in the hall during dinner and outside her chambers in the afternoon.

A month ago, Costis would have thrilled at the opportunity to be so close to his queen. And he still did, but...

There were still those who clung to the rumors surrounding Attolia and Eugenides. They were in the minority, now that most knew of Costis’s “relationship” with the Eddisian prince. But there were those who thought the queen had been a little _too_ attached to her friend, and perhaps was now angry at being cast aside.

How anyone could look at Attolia and see a jilted lover--how anyone could think she could be cast aside--was beyond Costis. But perhaps he was biased.

Those petty few had been looking forward to seeing the queen lash out at Costis. But they had been disappointed when the queen had promoted him instead. Still, their whispers filled the corners and followed Costis around every day like shadows.

So when the queen beckoned Costis forward to walk close to her as she was leaving court, he felt the eyes of every guard in three entire squads on him. Not to mention the heavy gaze of Teleus, flanking the queen’s other side.

“My queen?” he asked quietly, sweating a little.

“Squad Leader,” she said impassively. Or--wait. Not so impassively. If he strained, he could hear the warmth in her voice. A little amusement, probably at the way he was standing at attention in front of her. That, and the way her eyes twinkled at him, hit him in the chest like a fine wine. “I wanted to ask how you and your squad are enjoying your new positions.”

“Very well, my queen,” Costis said, a little confused as to why she was asking.

“And your lodgings?” the queen continued in an undertone.

“My queen?” Costis asked, very confused now.

“I know that in promoting you,” Attolia said, “I displaced another squad. I imagine there was some animosity surrounding that.” She was still pitching her voice low, so no one else except the captain could hear her.

Costis opened his mouth to deny it. It was the other squad, yes—but it was also Sejanus, who enjoyed stirring up trouble, and a few of the other lieutenants as well. But although Costis believed in honesty, he was uncomfortable informing on his fellow guards. Especially since they thought he was only promoted for sleeping with a foreign prince. Costis would probably hate himself, too, in that case.

He was going to say ‘no, my queen,’ when Attolia narrowed her eyes at him. “The truth, Squad Leader,” she said softly.

Costis swallowed, bit back his protests. “Nothing too bad,” he said, equally soft. “Just a little sand in my food, honey in the soles of my boots. Harmless, if inconvenient.”

“Still,” the queen said, her voice suddenly clearer, more audible. “If anything seems amiss, don’t hesitate to tell the captain. I’m sure he’ll pass on anything he sees or hears.”

Costis heard shuffling and murmurs behind him, and he closed his eyes. “My queen,” he said. “I don’t believe you did me any favors with that.”

“We’ll see,” Attolia said stubbornly, voice normal. “In the meantime, I’d wager that all those pesky rumors of us being at odds have been laid to rest, yes?”

“I would agree, my queen,” Costis said helplessly. “But—”

“Hmm,” the queen said, again in that over-clear voice. “I think I fancy a ride today. I should probably take a squad or two of the guard with me, wouldn’t you think, Teleus?”

“Yes, my queen,” Teleus said. “Shall I pass on the message to Lieutenant Diosconis?” Diosconis was the lieutenant who most often guarded the queen, along with another squad or two.

“Yes, I think so,” the queen said. “I’ll also have Squad Leader Ormentiedes and his squad come, as well.”

Teleus shifted slightly, paused a moment too long. The queen turned her gaze on him, eyebrow raised expectantly. “Yes, my queen,” he said woodenly.

And so Costis found himself and his squad accompanying the queen on a ride through the forest.

 

When he returned, and then the baths, there was a letter slipped under his door. _Costis_ , it said, in unfamiliar handwriting, but Costis knew who it was from anyway.

Who else could it be?

_Costis—_

read Eugenides’s letter.

_I hear from the Queen that you are performing your new duties well. I am glad to hear it. But the Queen can’t tell me how you really are feeling, so I have to ask you, don’t I?_

_How are you faring? I imagine it’s an adjustment, and that some people aren’t too fond of you now._

Costis sighed, thinking of Sejanus and his lackeys. But then he smiled ruefully, thinking of the queen and her steely-voiced concern just that morning.

_But I imagine your squad won’t let you down. And I know you won’t let your queen down._

_Enough of that. How is everything else? I don’t really know what to ask, but I very much want to hear about you._

_As for myself--well, I arrived this morning, and already my cousin is keeping me busy. Negotiations, meetings, the like. Of course I missed my country (yours is much too warm) but I can’t say I missed being prince. It was much easier to just be with you._

Costis stopped at that last sentence, and reread it a few times, feeling his ears grow warm. Was this going to be that sort of letter?

_This may be a foolish thing to say after just a few days, but I find myself missing you sorely, my dear. If I’m honest, though, I missed you as soon as I left. I have only seen you a little, but I’m already completely enamored of you. I wish that we had spent more time together, and that I had come to know you even better. But I’m sure we’ll have more chances next time, yes?_

_Until then, I’ll just say: I’m looking forward to seeing your smile again._

_Yours,  
Eugenides_

He was probably just being careful.

Probably, Costis told himself, his throat strangely tight. It was probably that he was keeping up pretenses, in case the letter fell into anyone else’s hands. It didn’t mean anything.

And what would it mean, anyway? Now Costis was being foolish.

_I’m looking forward to seeing your smile again_ , Eugenides had said, even though Costis rarely smiled at him so much as he frowned. That more than anything told Costis that Eugenides was pretending.

There was a little more writing at the bottom of the page, but Costis folded the letter up without reading it. He just...couldn’t. Not right now.

So he went to eat dinner, after which he stood guard in the hall during the queen’s meal. Attolia glanced at him a few times during the meal, almost unnoticeable. Costis, of course, noticed, because he was watching her. Once, when she caught his gaze, the corners of her lips twitched, and he went warm all over.

After, Costis read the last few lines of Eugenides’s letter, and saw that they were notes on where and how to write back. He stared at it for longer than he’d like to admit.

After a few minutes, he folded the paper up, left it on his desk, and went to dinner.

_~~Your Highness~~ _

_Eugenides,_

_I am faring well. It is quite the adjustment, you’re right--but I have wanted it for a very long time, and therefore I am happy. There have of course been those who wish me gone, but, well. I can be very stubborn._

_It stormed the day you left, but the weather has since cleared up. Today the queen went for a ride, and took our squad with her. It was good to get outside, but better to have the chance to keep the queen safe. I think she had also been inactive for too long. I think perhaps she misses you._

_And, well--I miss you too._

_Please don’t make me say more than that, because I’m not sure I can. So instead I’ll just say this: I look forward to seeing you smile again, too. You have a very nice laugh._

_Costis_

 

The next week, the court was visited by the Sounisian magus, and Attolia smiled at him with real warmth as he arrived. Mentally, Costis recategorized him from potential ally to friend. If the queen trusted him, then so did he.

Meanwhile, the queen was offering to have a feast for the magus, and Costis laughed internally, because one thing he had learned in the last week was that the queen did not enjoy feasts.

“No, no,” the magus said. “I’ll be gone in a few days for Eddis, and then the king and I will be back after a few months.”

“So soon?” the queen said, sounding pleased.

“Not soon enough,” the magus said wryly, “for Eddis and her wayward cousin are coming back with us, and I think Gen will be impatient.”

Costis bit his lip and tried not to look too anxious for more information. It must not have worked because Ignatius, another squad leader, nudged him and hissed, half-jokingly, “Control yourself, Ormentiedes.”

The queen was smiling, now. “Not soon enough,” she agreed. “But still, you are here for a few days, so let’s make the most of it. I’ll let you settle in, but perhaps before dinner tonight, I could show you the gardens? I have had some new varieties added that I think you...”

Her voice faded as she walked with the magus, Costis, Ignatius, and their squads trailing behind.

“A few months, hmm?” someone said from behind them. “I’m starting to think the Thief is looking to make a home in Attolia. He seems to be here more often than not.”

Costis tensed, shoulders coming up around his ears.

“Shh!”

“What? It’s tru--ouch! What was that for?”

Silence, during which Costis was sure meaningful glances were exchanged.

“Oh.”

Costis winced, and Ignatius looked at him sympathetically. It was fine--talk like this was good, even, for what Costis and Eugenides and the queen were trying to accomplish. But it still chafed.

 

_Costis,_

_By the time this reaches you, I imagine my friend the magus will have, as well. He may seem pompous at times, but I promise, he has a good heart. You may not have a chance to speak with him--or may not wish to--but if you do, I think you’d like him._

_Sounis is here in Eddis, since yesterday. He’s nominally here for treaty negotiations with my cousin, but I think the negotiations are truly of a much more personal nature. If things go the way I think they will, we may not even need a treaty after all! I’m glad, because he is a good friend. I think you would like him, too. He reminds me of you, sometimes. Noble, and proud, and a little thick-headed. But sincere, and good._

There was more. Pages of Eugenides’s neat, slanted writing, telling Costis about Eddis, about the weather, about his father and the queen and his other cousins. Most of it was easily written off as just friendly communication, but then:

_I spoke of you to my cousin, a couple of days ago, and I think she could tell. She laughed at me, although I probably deserved it, with how besotted I sounded. You make me foolish, but I think I enjoy it._

_I would never dream of making you say more than you wish, but I can’t say I didn’t enjoy hearing that you miss me. I had to stop myself from opening this letter with ‘Dearest Costis’ like some fifteen-year-old courtier with his first infatuation. But it’s true: you are very dear to me._

_I’ll be there in just a few months’ time. Don’t forget me?_

_And thank you, for not calling me Highness._

_Yours,  
Eugenides_

 

Gods, but he was laying it on thickly.

 

He crafted his response in his head during morning practice.

_Dear Eugenides--_ no.

_Gen--_ no no nonono.

_Eugenides--_

“Costis,” Aris hissed. “Look alive, the queen’s coming.”

“Not funny,” Costis snapped back out of instinct, and didn’t notice his slip until Aris looked at him strangely.

Aris pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Huh.”

“What,” Costis said, a chill going down his spine.

“Nothing.”

“It’s the queen!” someone said nearby, and Costis turned.

Indeed, the queen was walking nearby with the magus, talking with what was as close to animation as she showed in public. Suddenly, she looked up at the practice court and smiled. She said something to the magus.

The magus looked over and stared straight at Costis. He nodded, cocked his head, and gave a hint of a smile.

“Hmm,” said Aris.

“That’s enough gawking,” Costis said hurriedly. “I think we could use some more drills, don’t you?” The groans drowned out the sound of Aris’s thinking.

 

_Eugenides,_

_I haven’t had the chance to speak with him yet, but I imagine I would like him, if you do. The queen seems to hold him in high regard, as well._

_I am glad to hear things are going well in Eddis, and am doubly glad to hear the negotiations are successful. And if something more comes of it...well, then, I’ll be triply glad._

_You flatter me. Somewhere in that comparison, there was a compliment, I think, and it’s one that I’ll cherish._

Costis responded in kind, describing any interesting events of the last few days, including the most recent Baron who came to court with a thinly veiled offer of marriage. The queen would have laughed at him--Costis had been standing near her throne, and had seen the urge in the twitch of her lips as she glanced sideways at him--but the Baron had been slightly more polite than the rest.

He spoke of the most recent letter he had received from his sister, full of details about the farm and her studies. _Just as obstinate as me,_ he wrote, _but a little smarter_.

Then Costis sighed, and chewed on his quill, unsure of how to respond to the last few paragraphs. Finally, he began to write:

_The guards laugh at me, as well. They have stopped teasing me for--other things, and have now moved on to teasing me about you. The other day, Aris found your letter in my coat pocket_ —there, that one was even true— _and laughed for an hour. He’s noticed my new knife, I think, but he hasn’t asked. If he does, I’ll tell him the truth, and he’ll likely tease me for that as well._

_What I am trying to say is that you make me foolish, too. Although I think I would have to laugh at you if you called me ‘dearest.’_

_And of course I won’t forget you. How could I?_

_Yours,  
Costis_

“There,” Costis said, sitting back in his chair. He closed the inkpot, and placed the quill on its side. Never let it be said that Eugenides was doing _all_ the work with this pretense. Costis could do his part, too.

But he didn’t like rereading the words he had written. Something about them made him squirm. They had almost come too easily, and Costis didn’t like it. He didn’t like it, because it meant that either he was a better liar than he thought, or—

Or. Well.

 

_My dearest Costis,_ began the next letter, and Costis laughed even through the sudden tightness in his chest.

 

Things carried on, the next day, even while Costis was desperately trying not to panic. He mostly succeeded in not thinking about it, but then the queen would smile at him, or his hand would brush the knife at his waist, and it would all come back.

In those moments, he would reach into his coat and touch the edge of the folded-up letter (the _dearest Costis_ one), and try not to smile, and hate himself.

After court, Attolia said to her attendants, “I think I’d like to go for a ride today.”

Phresine, standing behind her, smiled, and said, “Very well, my queen. Perhaps a picnic, too?”

Attolia thought for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like that.” She paused, and then looked at Costis sidelong. “And I think I’ll take Squad Leader Ormentiedes and his men.”

The captain, who was at the queen’s right, sighed noiselessly. “Yes, my queen,” he said, and Costis tried not to feel hurt at the hesitation in his voice. Teleus had made it clear that he thought Costis deserved the promotion, but it seemed he didn’t think Costis deserved quite _this_ much attention.

It was all right, because Costis didn’t think so, either. Still, he couldn’t help but bask in Attolia’s attentions, so he bowed to the queen and thrilled at her smile, finding himself smiling as well as he walked away. She would probably grow tired of antagonizing the court at some point; he should at least enjoy it while it lasted.

 

She didn’t grow tired. Instead, the magus left, and for the next _month_ , Attolia kept manufacturing reasons to keep Costis close. Eventually, she abandoned any attempt at subtlety, and began to ask him outright to accompany her. It was--confusing, because normally the queen was calm, unreadable, and stoic, like a fortress. So this show of attachment to another person was uncharacteristic, to say the least.

And more than that, Costis was confused because there was no _reason_ for her to be acting like this. It wasn’t as if people still believed that she hated him. She had definitely dispelled those rumors, so she didn’t need to still be doing this. In fact, him continuing to be in her favor only made everything seem more suspicious.

There was no way the queen didn’t know this, because the queen was always, always conscious of her own appearance and what people thought of her. So either she was doing this on purpose, or she just didn’t care what people thought. Either way, it just didn’t make _sense_.

 

_My dearest, Costis—_

Costis smiled, trying not to feel too pleased.

_This will probably be the last letter of mine that you’ll receive for a couple of months. After I send it, I will be quite busy for a time; I believe my cousin who is Eddis is finally making me earn my keep._

_By the time you receive this, I will already be hard at work, but I will be thinking of you every minute. It will probably be only a couple more months before I see you. It’s probably for the best that I’m being kept occupied, because otherwise I imagine I’d be insufferable with how impatient I am to get to you. Well, more insufferable than I already am._

_Two months. Just two more months, so don’t forget me._

_With love,  
Eugenides_

The letter was very brief this time, more of a note than anything else. But Costis didn’t notice, too preoccupied with the end. _Don’t forget me_ , it said, just like that second letter. And below that—

_With love_.

Costis’s heart clenched sharply in his chest. _Stop that_ , he told it sternly. _You know what he meant_.

He bit his lip harshly and folded up the letter, tucking it into his cloak.

A small parcel had come with the letter, and Costis looked at it now, wondering. He opened it carefully, and drew out a sleek golden watch with trembling hands. It was of the new flat-backed style, and that alone marked its worth. Costis, who remembered Eugenides telling stories of his brother the watchmaker, recognized it further for the personal gift it was. He clutched it to his chest and tried not to listen to the voice telling him that _he wouldn’t give a gift like this just for the farce, not something like this_ , because that would only end in heartbreak.

Instead, Costis put the watch on his left wrist, and tried not to imagine the feel of Eugenides’s fingers wrapped around his pulse instead.

 

The queen was still keeping up the pretense.

“Squad Leader,” she called through the door to her quarters, “are you going to stand out there all day like a lost puppy, or are you going to come in?”

Out in the hallway, the other guards stared, and Costis flushed. “My queen?” he asked in confusion.

The door opened, and Attolia was standing in the frame. “Is something wrong?” she asked innocently, but Costis was no fool.

“Did you need me for something?” he asked, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Does your queen have to give a reason to require your presence,” Attolia asked coolly, and every other guard shuddered.

Costis almost did, but he saw the amusement behind her eyes, and said blandly, “No, my queen, but in this heat, the hallway is more pleasant.”

Silence, and then the queen snorted. “Come inside,” she said, sounding almost fond, and went back into her chambers, leaving the door wide open in her wake. Costis sighed and stepped through, closing it behind him.

The queen was sitting at her desk again, and looked at him as he stood to attention. She opened her mouth (probably to say something cutting), but then her gaze fixed on his exposed wrist.

“Oh,” she said, and Costis’s hand flew to the watch automatically. He had the sudden urge to apologize, even though he knew Attolia hadn’t guessed his feelings. How could she, when they were so absurd?

Still, he felt...guilty, and he scanned her face for any misgivings or signs of jealousy. But instead, she just smiled.

“So you have one too? Good.” She opened her jewelry box, drawing out a delicate gold watch with a face of mother-of-pearl. “Now we are a matched set.”

Costis swallowed, throat tight. “Yes, my queen,” he said. “Although I think one of the pair is a little more precious.”

The queen glared at him, startling in its suddenness. “Stop that,” she snapped, and Costis had his mouth halfway open to apologize before he knew what he was doing.

He pressed his lips together.

Attolia huffed in irritation. “I think I liked you better when you were too afraid to disagree with me.”

And that was just—

“And whose fault is that?” Costis found himself snapping, and then covered his mouth with both hands, horrified.

Attolia was staring at him, mouth parted very slightly in surprise.

They stayed there, like a tableau, for what felt like an age: him standing and her sitting, five feet apart, both of them staring at each other like they had forgotten how to speak.

Finally, Attolia cleared her throat, and said, “What do you mean?” Her confusion wasn’t convincing, but Costis humored her anyway.

“I mean that I had been your guard for seven years, and we had never even so much as spoken. I mean that before the last few months, you knew nothing about me, and I was _fine_ with that, I was content, I was never going to push for anything—” He cut himself off, covering his eyes with one hand.

“And then Eugenides left,” Costis continued, forgetting in his agitation that he had never called him anything but ‘the prince’ to Attolia’s face. “Eugenides left, and you changed. And you made everything so _strange_.” And that summed everything up, didn’t it? The picnics, the hunts, the walks through the garden, the way she had him stand behind her in court and at breakfast and during dinner. She was acting like he was a favorite, and he couldn’t stand it.

Nothing but silence, from Attolia’s chair, but he couldn’t look at her to gauge her reaction. “I know what you were trying to do,” he said quietly. “I know you were trying to get rid of the rumors by making it clear that we weren’t at odds. I know that you were just playing the game, but what I don’t understand is why you _kept_ doing it. It stopped making sense a month and a half ago, and I’ve been drifting since then, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Costis,” Attolia said, then, and it was the first time she had said his name since that first conversation in her study, when all of this had started. “Costis, look at me.”

Costis looked at her, because her voice was very firm; he had already disobeyed her enough today, and he couldn’t make himself do it anymore.

Attolia looked back at him, face more open and sincere than he had ever seen it. “You’re wrong,” she said. “Maybe that was why I did it at first, but really I just—”

Another few moments of silence, while Attolia looked down at her lap and tried to gather her bearings. Costis kept looking at her, because somewhere, beneath the humiliation and the frustration and the guilt, there was a small, hungry part of him that had been longing to see Attolia like this. Costis wasn’t proud of it, but he had been desperate to see this other side of her, beyond the cold exterior and the witty retorts and the sheer queenliness of her everyday persona.

But this--this was undeniably _real_ , something that Attolia would never allow a lowly guard to see. And that alone meant that there was some truth to what she was saying.

So:

“You just?” Costis prompted, softly, and Irene looked up at him, mouth pressed into a thin white line.

“I just wanted to know you better,” she said.

“But _why_ ,” he said, plaintively, because he needed to know.

Attolia sighed. “Because he likes you,” she admitted, and Costis caught his breath.

“What?” he asked, and his voice cracked. He didn’t have to ask who she meant.

“Gen talks about you all the time,” Attolia continued, “even before he left, but especially after, in his letters. I wanted to see what he saw.”

“And did you?” Costis asked.

The queen looked at him, dry. “Maybe I would have if you were ever yourself around me. But so far all I’ve seen from you is honor and patriotism.”

Costis looked down at his feet, the heavy boots on Attolia’s fine carpeting. How did he explain that when he was around her, he simultaneously wanted to never leave and to go and never come back? That he felt out of place and uncomfortable, but that her presence was worth it? That he loved her, and that made it worth it, but that he never knew what to say or do?

“I don’t know any other way to be,” was all he said, and it was true.

“Just be you,” Attolia said, exasperated. “Just--just _talk_ to me. Sit down and talk.”

So he sat on her bed, and asked, “What would you like to know?”

 

“You look like you want to ask me something,” Attolia said, after half an hour of her interrogating him on his life story.

Costis’s fingers had been plucking idly at the queen’s bedcovers while he spoke, and he had trailed off after the last story. He froze, now, caught. “I couldn’t.”

“You can and you will,” Attolia said firmly. “Ask.”

Costis sighed. “Before Eugenides left, I meant to ask him how you two met, but I never got the chance.”

Startlingly, Irene smiled, bright and almost girlish. “Oh,” she said. “All right, then.”

“I was very young, and my father was having a party. It was loud, and bright, and irritating, but the music was good. I remember being upset that no one would dance with a small, unimportant princess, even though I didn’t really want to dance with any of them, either.”

Costis tried to picture Irene, lonely and small, and failed. But his heart went out to that young girl, anyway.

“I went out into the gardens to walk for a while instead,” Attolia was saying, “but I couldn’t hear the music anymore. So I went to the kitchen gardens instead, and.” She stopped.

“And?” Costis asked, despite himself, and Irene smiled.

“I danced. Under the orange trees, by myself. I pretended there were other dancers there, and I danced, until—”

Her smile grew wider, and Costis felt warmth bloom in his chest at the sight.

“Until a boy, younger than me, jumped down from the tree and startled me so badly I fell down into the cabbages.”

Costis laughed, startled, then covered his mouth.

“No, no,” Irene said, eyes sparkling, “please laugh. Gen certainly did. He laughed and then apologized when I threw a rock at him, but still kept laughing. And then he offered to dance with me, and that was that.”

“Really?” Costis asked. “You fell in love, just like that?”

Irene laughed. “Oh, no, not just like that. But you only asked how we met, didn’t you?” She looked down at her lap mock-demurely, and said, “A woman has to keep some secrets, doesn’t she?”

 

Two weeks later, and Costis was finally adjusting. His squad had stopped looking at him so strangely every time he and the queen spoke, and the queen had stopped pushing so much. Instead, they interacted more organically: she didn’t use his squad any more than the others in the Third, but when she did, she’d still have him ride the horse right behind hers, or stand at her right shoulder.

But Eugenides was due back any day now, and Costis couldn’t help but wonder how his presence would change things.

“You know,” the queen mused, and Costis straightened up automatically at the tone of her voice. “You know, Eugenides will be back soon.”

Had she read his mind? “Yes, my queen.”

“I don’t expect I’ll be able to get out very much once he’s here, if I’m busy keeping him entertained.” Irene laughed fondly. “He hates horses.”

_I know_ , Costis thought, but didn’t say. She must have known anyway, because she shot him a smile.

A smile which turned sly before his eyes, as Irene said, “I should probably have one last ride, don’t you think?”

She decided to make a day of it, citing the cooling weather and their anticipated visitors as reasons for one last picnic.

“Let’s go a little farther,” she said, and they passed by the clearing they usually sat in, kept going toward the nearby lake. They were far from the palace, now--an hour or so’s ride. It made Costis nervous, despite the fact that his entire squad and Ignatius’s were there.

Teleus wasn’t there, though, and neither was Lieutenant Diosconis. The queen had decided they didn’t need them, but Costis was regretting that decision more and more with every minute.

Why did he feel so anxious?

“Something’s wrong,” he said, almost to himself.

“Hmm?” Ignatius said. “What was that?”

“Something’s not right,” Costis said, and heard his squad shift in their saddles behind him.

Ignatius, however, said, “Sure you’re not just being skittish?”

Costis was halfway to scowling before he realized that the other guard wasn’t making eye contact.

“Do you think so?” Costis asked, deliberately casual.

Ignatius laughed, forced, and said, “What are the odds of something happening with all of us here?” Costis stared at him, at the way he was white-knuckling the reins of his horse, and stopped his horse short.

Behind him, a couple of guards shouted with consternation at the sudden halt, but most of them reined in just as quickly, as if they had been watching the conversation.

Costis wasn’t paying attention to them anymore. “Where’s the queen?” he said.

“Costis—” Ignatius attempted, but Costis’s gun was up and pointed at his head in a second. Dimly he heard shouting, but he didn’t care.

“I don’t care why you’ve betrayed us, and I don’t have time to deal with you right now,” he said, voice very cold. “Tell me what’s going to happen or I will cut you down right here.”

Ignatius swallowed. “Baron Helladius’s men—”

Helladius was famous for his gunmen.

Costis spun his horse, scanning the trees, looking for a glint of metal or a gap in the foliage, _anything_.

There.

Irene, who had by now heard the commotion, turned to look at Costis, a question in her eyes. Above her, something shined in the branches of a tree, like a sword or armor. His gun dropped from nerveless fingers.

“My queen, get _down_ ,” he yelled, and she ducked instinctively.

Even as she moved, a bullet whistled over her head.

She straightened, slowly, eyes wide. There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then twenty soldiers burst fully armed from the trees around them, and all hell broke loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the hamilton reference was the _My dearest, Costis_ bit, which is a reference to [this line](http://genius.com/7873061). you should definitely read that annotation, plus the first link in it (and also the next annotation as well). #commasexting
> 
> ETA: I've recently become aware of the fact that the watches in Queen's Thief are _not_ , in fact, wrist-watches, but rather pocket watches. don't know how I missed that but, well, *eugenides voice* I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick warning: some canon-typical violence in this chapter. very non-graphic, but if you want to skip, just scroll down to “Attolia had pushed herself to a sitting position” :)

“Give me a weapon!” Attolia shouted, but four of Costis’s squad was already at her side, surrounding her.

Ignatius was on the ground, having been dragged from his saddle by one of his own men. He wasn’t even trying to fight back. Other than him, none of their own seemed to have betrayed them.

But Costis had other concerns, because one of those guarding the queen was pulled off his horse, and by the time he got back up again, the other three were in disarray. No, no, she needed a gun, where was his gun?

Wait.

“My queen!” he shouted, and she turned to him, eyes wild around the edges. He pulled Eugenides’s knife from its sheath on his belt, locked eyes with Irene, and threw. He didn’t have time to worry if it would cut her--she needed it, and he’d just have to trust that it would land the right way.

It did: Irene caught the knife perfectly by the hilt, as if it had been guided to her hand, and immediately drove it into the abdomen of the man attacking her side. Costis felt something unnameable swell up inside him at the sight, at how easily Eugenides’s knife fit in her hand. It looked like it was made for her.

And then Costis had to take his eyes off of her, because he was being attacked, as well.

 

As soon as he could, Costis sent one of his guards galloping back to the palace with word of the attack. Help wouldn’t come in time, but at least they could have doctors ready for when they arrived. So far, none of his men had been gravely wounded, but many of them had minor injuries.

Almost as if his thoughts had been heard, Costis felt a sharp pain in his outer thigh. He swore and nearly tumbled off his horse, slashing instinctively at the man whose bullet had grazed him.

Things blurred, after that. He stopped feeling the pain in his leg. He found himself on his feet, no longer on horseback, and didn’t know why he had dismounted there.

(He was closer to Irene’s position, now, so maybe that was why.)

The Queen’s Guard was winning, by now, more skilled and better trained and more motivated than the Baron Helladius’s men. Out of the corner of his eye, Costis saw that Irene had taken one of the fallen mercenaries’ swords, but that the threat had diminished enough that there were men guarding her back again. Good.

The attack faltered, soon, and only five or so attackers remained. Costis pushed through, needing to finish his most recent opponent off so he could go to his queen’s side.

A shout rang out, then, and Costis turned just in time to see Irene be pulled from her horse, crashing to the ground on top of her attacker.

He yelled, wordlessly, and ran for her, abandoning the man he was fighting and dropping his sword in his haste.

By the time he reached her, though, Irene had shaken the mercenary away, and he fell back into a guard, who knocked him over the head with the hilt of his sword. He was the last mercenary to fall--and every member of the Guard was still standing.

Attolia had pushed herself to a sitting position, but was prodding at her ankle gingerly, face pained.

“My queen,” Costis said breathlessly, skidding to a stop in front of her. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” the queen said, face still as marble. “It’s just my ankle.” She didn’t sound like the same Attolia who had smiled at him just an hour ago.

Costis fell to his knees before her, hands outstretched. “May I see?”

The queen looked at him for a moment, then wordlessly placed her foot in his hands.

He felt her ankle carefully, noting that it was swollen, but also that there was very little bruising, and the queen didn’t seem to be in too much pain. “I think it’s just sprained,” he said softly. “But you might not be able to put weight on it.”

“Probably not,” the queen agreed. “Help me up?”

Costis clasped her forearm and let her pull herself up, then tucked his shoulder under her arm so that she could lean on him. She looked at him, brow raised, and he looked back. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d take well to being carried, but she couldn’t walk on her own. This was a good compromise.

Irene huffed out a laugh, then, and Costis began to relax.

Until he turned and saw his entire squad and Ignatius’s staring at him. Ignatius himself even looked gobsmacked. Costis tensed.

“What?” he snapped. “Do you have nothing better to do than gawk?”

The guards flinched and scrambled to their horses, having already tied up the defeated mercenaries while Costis was concerned with Irene.

Irene, who was shaking at his side. Costis turned to her, alarmed, and saw her looking at him with her hand covering her mouth. She was smothering laughter.

“My queen,” he said reproachfully, and she laughed outright.

 

They moved slow, and returning to the palace took twice as long as leaving from it had. It was dark by the time they arrived, and Costis was feeling the injury in his thigh acutely.

Immediately, the queen’s attendants, along with an irate and extremely concerned Teleus, came and whisked Attolia away. She smiled at Costis as she left. “Have that leg taken care of,” she ordered, and he smiled back.

And she was gone, leaving Costis standing with his squad in the middle of the courtyard.

He turned to his men. “Let’s head to the infirmary, then—“

There was a commotion, and the sound of running feet.

“I tried to stop him,” Aris’s voice said, “told him you had to go to the infirmary first, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Costis wasn’t listening, either.

Eugenides stood there, in front of him, real and solid, and Costis was paralyzed. “Oh,” he said stupidly.

“You idiot,” Eugenides said, very soft. “Don’t do that again.”

Costis tried to work up some righteous indignation, even as his heart fluttered out of control. “I’m fine,” he said plaintively.

“You’re _hurt_ ,” Eugenides said furiously, stepping very close and brushing a hand against Costis’s thigh, centimeters away from his wound.

“Barely,” Costis said dazedly. Eugenides’s hand was very warm, and Costis couldn’t look away from his face—the sweep of his lashes against his cheek, the curve of his mouth. He was _here_. “When did you arrive?”

“A few hours ago,” Eugenides said, not looking at him. “We had just dismounted when your man came riding in and said that you had been ambushed.” His hand slid up to wrap around Costis’s wrist. “I was half ready to ride after you, but I knew I wouldn’t make it in time to help anyone.” His grip tightened, and Costis caught his breath.

“Eugenides—“ he said breathlessly.

“I just had to wait,” Eugenides continued, ignoring him, voice tight. “Not knowing if you were hurt or dead or—” He looked up, eyes glittering with something Costis couldn’t name. Dimly, Costis thought, _He really is very good at this_. But then he wasn’t able to think of anything else, because Eugenides leaned up and kissed him.

Costis gasped into the kiss, out of shock and no small amount of pleasure. He thought about pulling back and asking Eugenides why he thought now was the best time to take their pretense to the next level, but then he decided not to argue. This was something he had wanted, after all, and he was getting it—did it really matter why?

(Of course it mattered. But Costis’s leg hurt and his head was swimming and he felt drunk on Eugenides’s presence, and he didn’t want to think about that right now.)

Eugenides pulled back, and Costis leaned forward after him before he caught himself. “There,” Eugenides said, still sounding angry. “Now you understand why I’m so annoyed with you.”

“Not really,” Costis said, dazed. “I might need to be shown again.”

Eugenides stared at him, and Costis ducked his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and finally, _finally_ Gen’s face split into a blinding smile.

“Don’t be,” he said, almost tender. “Don’t be _sorry_ , you big lump, just promise me you won’t go putting yourself in danger again.”

“I can’t promise that,” Costis protested. “I was protecting the queen. That’s my job.”

“The queen,” Eugenides said, and Costis watched the color drain from his face. “ _Irene_ , oh gods, I didn’t, is she—”

“She’s fine,” Costis said hastily. “Just a sprained ankle, I made sure.”

“...of course.” Eugenides exhaled. “Of course you did. I should--I should go.”

“Go see the queen.” Costis squeezed his shoulder gently. “I have to go to the infirmary anyway.”

“Let me take you there,” Eugenides said. It wasn’t really a request.

“I’ll be fine,” Costis protested. “Aris is here, he can help me there.”

“That’s right,” Aris said. “I’m still here.”

Costis blushed. “See?”

“No,” Eugenides said, firmly, and wouldn’t be swayed, so ten minutes later they found themselves in the infirmary, Costis leaning heavily on Eugenides’s shoulder. Aris was walking at their side, looking more and more amused with every stupid joke Eugenides cracked and every helpless smile Costis sent him.

“You’ll be all right?” Eugenides murmured. Costis nodded.

“It’s barely a scratch, it just stings.”

Eugenides didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t say anything except, “Okay. Take care of it, though. I’ll be back soon.”

Costis smiled. “Take your time.” This time, he leaned in for the kiss first.

When he pulled back, time seeming to move as slow as honey—Eugenides was looking at him inscrutably. The giddy haze faded from Costis’s mind, and he started to realize everything that had just happened. Panic slowly began to unfurl in his chest.

“You should go,” he said quickly; too quickly, because Eugenides narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“...okay.” Quick as lightning, Eugenides swept in and pressed his mouth to Costis’s, before hurrying away.

Costis touched his lips with shaking fingers. “Oh,” he said, a little tremulously. “Oh.”

 

The nurse cleaned his wound and bandaged it, then sent him away under strict orders to rest. Costis had been too shell-shocked to respond, but Aris had smiled at the nurse and said, “I’ll make sure that he does.”

As they were leaving the infirmary, Costis wobbled.

“Whoa,” Aris said, catching him. “Okay there, Costis?”

“No,” Costis said. “I don’t--I don’t feel well.” It was the only way he could describe the combination of dizziness, queasiness, and emotional turmoil that was plaguing him.

Aris had known him a very long time, and could probably read every bit of it on his face. “Okay,” he said gently. “Let’s get some food into you and then take you to your bed, hmm?” His voice was soothing, as if he were speaking to a child.

“I’m not a child,” Costis said, but as he started to actually droop in Aris’s arms, he knew he couldn’t argue.

When Aris had settled them at a table in the mess (and begged a cup of wine off the cook), he turned to Costis and ordered, “Eat.”

Costis did, and as he steadily shoveled lamb and bread into his stomach and washed it down with watered wine, he began to feel better--less like the world was falling apart around him.

“Better,” Aris said, and it wasn’t even a question. “You were turning green, before.”

Costis smiled at him gratefully. Then he looked around and noticed that they were no longer alone, but were instead surrounded by all of Aris’s squad, and those of Costis’s who were unharmed. He looked at his men consideringly, and they smiled sheepishly at him.

“Don’t worry, Squad Leader,” one of them said, “we went and got ourselves checked out, too.”

“Good,” Costis replied, satisfied, then went back to eating.

“Oh,” Aris said, “Costis. You haven’t heard the news.”

Costis made a questioning noise.

“Apparently,” Legarus said, with the self-satisfied air of one who had heard the gossip before everyone else, “apparently, the queen of Eddis and the king of Sounis are on the brink of announcing their engagement.”

Half of the table hadn’t heard the news yet, and there were exclamations of shock and amusement and dismay all around.

Costis remained silent.

“You don’t look surprised,” Aris said.

“No,” Costis said, trying to find a diplomatic way to phrase it. “Not exactly.”

“Did the Thief tell you?” one of Aris’s men, Constantianus, asked, and his neighbor Theon hit him with a spoon, even as Costis flinched. “Ouch! What?”

“I’ve thought something was happening there since we signed the treaty with Eddis,” Costis said, “but no one would have believed me, so I kept my mouth shut.”

“Since the _treaty_?”

“But that was five years ago!”

Costis shrugged. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

No one said a word. Then, after a moment, Aris nudged his side. “Enlighten us.”

“It’s nothing that convoluted,” Costis said defensively. “It’s just that--well, everyone knows that the Prince and Sounis are friends, right?” It felt strange to be calling Eugenides ‘Prince’ again, but he had to keep up appearances.

There were sounds of agreement, so Costis continued.

“So it’s not as if Eddis and Sounis hate each other. They’re probably even friendly.” He didn’t mention what Eugenides had said in his letters about the budding attraction between the two. That was private.

“That doesn’t mean they have to get married,” Legarus said.

“No,” Costis agreed. “But it’s smart, politically, to make an alliance between Eddis and Sounis, now that the Mede threat is mostly gone. Especially since Attolia and Eddis are more friendly now than they’ve been in...probably a century. A marriage alliance could be the best thing for Eddis and Sounis.”

“Best for them, maybe!” Arsenius, another squad’s leader, said loudly, “but what about us? What about Attolia, left on the outside? What happens to us if Sounis sets his eyes on Attolia’s land again?” Murmurs of approval sounded around the table. Costis thought about how silly it was to worry that Eddis and Attolia would break apart, when Eugenides and Irene were—

“The king of Sounis is not his uncle,” Aris said warningly. “I don’t know that we’ll have that problem in this generation.”

“But what if we _do _,” Arsenius pressed. “Or what if the Mede come back?”__

__Then Philagrius, one of Costis’s own men, threw his fork down with a clatter, and half of the table jumped. Costis and Aris looked at each other nervously; tensions were starting to run much too high. “What can we do about it, then? We’ve already signed a treaty with Eddis, what more can we do?”_ _

__“How about a marriage alliance between _our_ countries,” someone suggested. “Between Attolia and Eddis.”_ _

__“With who?” another guard argued. “All of Eddis’s brothers are dead.”_ _

__“Well, what about her cousin?”_ _

__Silence._ _

__Slowly, Aris asked, “What was that?”_ _

__The man looked around nervously, and repeated, “What about Eddis’s cousin? What about the Prince?”_ _

__Costis went cold._ _

__“The _Thief_?” Constantianus said incredulously. “You must be joking.”_ _

__“Well, it’s like Costis said, they’re already friends, aren’t they?”_ _

__At Costis’s name, the entire table seemed to freeze. Half of the eyes turned to him, and the other half dropped to the table, avoiding his gaze._ _

__For a moment, Costis had no idea how to respond. Aris had a hand on his arm, although whether it was meant to be a quelling gesture or a comforting one, Costis wasn’t sure. He felt like he was a moment from either crumbling or snapping, but at the same time--at the same time, a part of him realized that this was the moment they had been waiting for._ _

__This was the moment the entire ruse had been leading up to._ _

___I’m not ready_ , Costis thought wildly. _I’m not ready for it to be over_._ _

__But that wasn’t his decision to make, was it?_ _

__“You’d be okay with that?” he heard himself ask hoarsely._ _

__The entire table looked at him, then, with wide, confused eyes. “What?” Legarus asked._ _

__Costis cleared his throat. He had to get this right. “You’d be okay with the Thief of Eddis marrying our queen?” It hurt him, it _physically_ hurt him to phrase it like that, but he _had to be sure_._ _

__Aris stirred in his seat. “Costis—” But Costis turned, now, and placed a hand on _his_ arm, as a quelling gesture._ _

__“You’d be okay with it?” he reiterated._ _

__“Well,” one of the men said at last, “it might be the only way.”_ _

__“And it might...not be so bad,” another added hesitantly._ _

__“He _has_ been in Attolia a lot.”_ _

__“Yeah--so he knows our customs.”_ _

__“He’s friends with our queen; that has to count for something, right? She doesn’t seem to actually _like_ a lot of people.”_ _

__“He might actually be the best choice.”_ _

__Costis swallowed convulsively. “Well, then,” he said. “I agree.”_ _

__They stared at him, Aris included._ _

__“For all of the reasons you said,” Costis said, and he _knew_ his composure was cracking, at this point, he _knew_ his voice was breaking. He knew it because he could hear it, but even if he couldn’t, he’d be able to see it on the faces of those around him, as slowly but surely they all started to realize just who they were talking to, and just what the Thief of Eddis meant to him. He’d be able to feel it in the way Aris gripped his wrist, tight, this time definitely a comforting gesture._ _

__“For all of the reasons you said, and for other reasons, too. Even though I don’t think Eddis would turn on us, I think the best situation would be if our queen married the Prince.”_ _

__

__After that, things progressed rather quickly._ _

__Costis began to avoid being alone with either Eugenides or Irene. Their plan was coming to a close, and there was no need for him to be near them anymore._ _

__The queen of Eddis and the king of Sounis announced their engagement, and Attolia threw a feast in their honor. Almost immediately after, the barons began to squabble amongst themselves, and unrest seized the court, as people contemplated the fact that Eddis and Sounis now seemed to have a stronger relationship than Eddis and Attolia._ _

__In the history of the three kingdoms, rarely had all three been at peace. It was always two against one, or all against each other. So if the peace was shifting toward Eddis and Sounis, what did that mean for Attolia?_ _

__The same thoughts that had been spoken by the Guard--those same thoughts came out in court, both within earshot of the queen and not._ _

__And slowly, they all came to the same conclusion: Attolia should marry Eugenides._ _

__

__Pre-dawn practice kept on as normal. Or at least, what ‘normal’ meant before Eugenides, which really didn’t feel so normal anymore._ _

__Costis _thwack_ ed the practice dummy half-heartedly a couple more times, before sighing and setting his sword down. “What am I doing?” he said to the empty courtyard._ _

__He heard footfalls behind him--perhaps not so empty. A kernel of hope appeared in his chest, and he firmly squashed it as he turned around. It probably wasn’t Gen._ _

__It wasn’t Gen. It was the Queen of Eddis._ _

__“Your Majesty,” Costis said, and bowed as low as he could without toppling over._ _

__“Please don’t,” Eddis said, amusement in her voice. “I just wanted to get a look at you.”_ _

__“At me, Your Majesty?”_ _

__“Well, you are the man that my cousin has been absolutely stupid over, aren’t you?” She raised both eyebrows at him._ _

__Costis, to his horror, blushed down to his collar. “I—” He didn’t really know how to respond to that. Did Eddis really not know the truth?_ _

__Eddis looked at him and laughed. She had the kind of laughter that pulled a smile out of you, whether you liked it or not. Costis smiled despite himself._ _

__“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know about the ruse.”_ _

__Costis sighed with relief. He hadn’t been looking forward to lying to a queen._ _

__“Still,” Eddis continued, “it’s true, isn’t it? He hardly ever shut up about you when he was home.”_ _

__Costis made a disbelieving noise._ _

__“I’m not lying,” she said. “But I understand why it’s hard for you to believe.” She shrugged, and looked him in the eye. She looked very much like her cousin in that moment, with a gaze that could see right through to your soul. “I just thought I should tell you, lest you continue on thinking it meant nothing to anyone but you.”_ _

__Costis, whose color had only just gone down, flushed miserably again. “Don’t,” he said, reminded all too much of that first practice, where Gen had made fun of him for being in love with the queen._ _

__Gods, how much had changed since then._ _

__“Okay,” Eddis said agreeably. “I won’t. I just thought you should know.”_ _

__“...thanks,” Costis said quietly._ _

__Eddis smiled. “Now,” she said, reaching down and grabbing two wooden staffs from where they had lain unseen at her feet. “What do you say to some sparring practice? I’ve been dying to fight someone with some skill, and I hear you’re the best Irene has.”_ _

__

__A week later, Eddis and Sounis left with the magus to go to Sounis._ _

__Three months after Eddis and Sounis were engaged, Attolia and Eugenides were, as well._ _

__Shortly after that, Eugenides came to see Costis during morning practice, just like he had done at the beginning. The squads slowed to a standstill when they saw him, and for once, Aris didn’t reprimand them._ _

__“Costis,” Eugenides said, and his voice already sounded so apologetic that Costis wanted to _scream_. He gripped his water skin tighter._ _

__“Costis, can I speak with you?”_ _

__“Of course,” Costis said, and turned to Aris. “Carry on without me?”_ _

__Aris hesitated, but eventually nodded. “All right,” he shouted, “everyone pair off!”_ _

__Eugenides led Costis away a little bit, but not far enough for them to be truly out of earshot._ _

__“What can I do for you,” Costis asked, careful to sound a little closed-off, but not too much. He had to seem like he was hurting to the rest of the world, but he couldn’t let Eugenides see that the pain was real._ _

__A flash of hurt, then, across Eugenides’s face. “I came to tell you that I’m—”_ _

__“Don’t,” Costis cut him off. “I know. I’m...I’m sorry, too. I should have known that it couldn’t last.”_ _

__“No,” Eugenides insisted, agitated. “I’m not sorry that we met, I’m not sorry to have courted you, I’m not sorry for _any_ of it. I’m only sorry that I hurt you. I’m only sorry that we couldn’t continue.”_ _

__Costis nodded, wordless, because he didn’t think he could get the words out. Gods, but Eugenides was a good actor. Maybe he _was_ truly sad, though. Maybe he was mourning the loss of a friendship. Costis ought to feel bad for that, and he did, but he couldn’t be Eugenides’s friend without wanting more._ _

__“We could still,” Eugenides said, almost inaudibly. “Maybe we could still...”_ _

___What?_ _ _

__“ _No_ ,” Costis said, recoiling, too harsh and too horrified and too _real_. Eugenides took a step back, and Costis reached out to him before he could stop himself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just...no. No, we couldn’t.” _I couldn’t_._ _

__Eugenides swallowed. “Okay,” he said hoarsely. “Good day, then, Costis.”_ _

__“Good day, Your Highness,” Costis choked out, and then turned on his heel to return to practice._ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: the lines/scene at the beginning of this chapter are a slightly modified version of the opening of _The King of Attolia_ , in case it sounds familiar :) Most of the details of Gen’s schedule as king are taken from the book, too

In Eddis, a man came to his bride on the wedding night. In Attolia, a woman came to her husband. Gen and Irene had chosen to keep the custom of Attolia, and so Gen was sitting at the window of his new bedchamber, looking out over the town, waiting for his wife.

On the palace wall, Costis looked out over the town as well, but without really seeing it. His mind was in the palace with the queen and the new king, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make his thoughts stray.

He heard the captain come up beside him, and turned around.

“You’re not going to go inside?” Teleus asked, casually.

Costis leaned back against the edge of the wall. “I have to do my duty, don’t I?”

Teleus scoffed. “You’re guarding the wall on perhaps the one day when no one would dare attack. Your duty is out here?”

“Well it’s certainly not in there,” Costis said bitterly, with a jerky nod toward the lit-up palace.

Teleus narrowed his eyes at him. “If you want pity—“

“I don’t!”

“—then you’re looking in the wrong place. You knew what you were getting into.”

He was right, Costis thought, but it still hurt to hear.

Wait.

Costis froze. “You knew?”

Teleus sighed. “About the ruse? Not at first. Not until after you were promoted, after the Prince left for Eddis.”

“The King.”

“What?” Teleus startled.

Costis smiled. “He’s king now.”

Teleus gave him a questioning glance. “You’re happy about that?”

Laughing despite himself, Costis shrugged. “He’ll hate it. But—” And here he sobered, as he thought of Eugenides as Attolis, in the throne room, at Irene’s side. “He’ll be very good at it.”

“…he will,” Teleus admitted, to Costis’s shock. “And she loves him.”

Again, Costis smiled, even as he felt his throat tighten. “That she does,” he said. “And he loves her. I’m glad.”

In an uncharacteristic display of camaraderie, Teleus knocked his shoulder against Costis’s. Despite his earlier harsh words, Costis knew that he was offering his silent sympathy, and accepted it gratefully.

 

Two days later, after the collective hangover had abandoned the court, Costis found himself in Teleus’s office again.

“You’ve been promoted,” the captain said. “Again.”

“To what?” Costis asked.

“Lieutenant.”

Costis stared. “ _Lieutenant_.”

“Yes.” Teleus shuffled a pile of papers, and didn’t make eye contact. Costis began to grow nervous.

“Assigned to where?” he asked suspiciously.

“To whom.”

“What?”

The captain cleared his throat. “Assigned to whom.”

“Okay,” Costis said, starting to have a bad feeling. “Assigned to whom, then?”

Finally, Teleus looked him in the eye. “To the king. You’ve been assigned as his personal guard.”

“No.” Costis sat down heavily in the chair by the desk, and although the captain raised an eyebrow, he didn’t admonish him. “No, that can’t be right. Why would he—”

“It was on the queen’s orders.” Teleus stared him down, daring him to argue.

“...fine,” Costis said, through gritted teeth. “When and where do I report for duty. Sir.”

“Tomorrow morning at seven o’clock, at the king’s chambers. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.” Costis stood. “Will that be all, sir?”

“Yes.” Teleus stood, as well. “You’re dismissed. Lieutenant.”

Costis shuddered, and left.

 

The next morning, Costis pulled Gen’s watch out from the box where he kept it, held it in his hands, and just looked at it. It was too beautiful for a guard to wear, except perhaps for a special occasion. But it was also too precious to waste.

He didn’t put it on, although he could do with its grounding weight around his wrist. Instead, he tucked it into a hidden pocket inside his coat, where it would lie close to his chest. It would have to do.

When Costis first arrived to the king’s new quarters, he found Gen alone, rushing through getting dressed on his own.

“Where are your attendants?” Costis asked, appalled. “You shouldn’t be doing this by yourself.”

The king straightened up and stared at him, not saying anything.

Costis fidgeted. “What?”

Gen shook his head as if to clear it, and said sullenly, “I sent them away.”

“You _what_.”

“They were hovering!” the king said petulantly.

And just like that, Costis felt his misgivings vanish. “You’re being foolish. I’ll call them back.”

“No, don’t.” Gen tried to reach the buttons on his back, and frowned miserably.

“Foolish,” Costis said, much too fond, and Gen glared at him.

“You can’t talk to your king like that!” he said hotly. A moment later, he froze, wide-eyed, panicked, like he actually thought Costis was going to take him seriously.

_Your king_. Costis felt something clench in his chest, almost tenderly. Shaking his head, and with a smile, he stepped forward to do up Gen’s buttons. “Fine--then I’ll help.”

 

After that, breakfast. Costis stood behind the king’s shoulder and tried not to look too hard at the queen, but it was hard when Irene kept glancing at him and smiling with her eyes. Once, she even smiled for real.

Costis smiled back, helpless.

Then he followed the king to meet with his tutors, receiving lessons on Attolian policy, agriculture, etiquette, history—and everything else. Eugenides was one of the most learned men Costis had ever met (he thought he had mentioned living in a library?), so he probably knew much of this already. But the lessons were mostly tradition, in any case, and Eugenides sat through every last one, no matter how painful.

His attendants trailed after him the whole way, unsure of their new king, and a little resentful at having to serve an Eddisian, but too frightened of the Thief (and of the queen, who loved him) to try anything.

Then court, where Gen sat in his throne with that familiar insouciant sprawl. Costis could see the courtiers taking notice and starting to tense, but then the queen would share a remark with the king and he would respond with something that made her give that soft half-smile, and the whole court relaxed.

Finally, they returned to the king’s apartments in the royal wing, and Eugenides left his attendants in an anteroom. He should have left Costis in the guardroom, but instead, as he entered his bedroom, he gestured for Costis to follow.

It was evening, and Costis had finally been beginning to hope they could make it through the first day without anything happening--but Gen stopped that thought with a hand on his wrist.

“You’re not wearing it,” he said softly.

It took Costis a moment to realize what he was talking about, but only because his brain had gone quiet at that first gentle touch. The watch.

“No,” he said, and left off the ‘my king.’ This wasn’t a conversation between a king and his guard. “Was I supposed to?” _Did you want me to?_

Gen looked at him. “No,” he said, “I suppose not.” And then he said goodnight, and Costis was dismissed.

 

The next morning, as Costis tied his king’s sash (his attendants absent again--Costis would have to address that), Gen’s eyes dragged over Costis’s bare wrist. His eyes narrowed a little, and he exhaled through his nose.

Costis reared back. “You _did_ want me to wear it!”

“Of course I did!” Eugenides glared at him.

“For what reason?”

“Would I have given it to you if I didn’t?” Eugenides’s demeanor was completely different now than it had been the previous day. Different than Costis had ever seen him before: defensive, confused. Wounded.

Costis frowned. “Yes,” he said. “I think you would have. It wasn’t about me.”

Gen’s face went still. “No,” he said, in an eerie echo of the previous evening’s conversation. “I suppose not.”

Costis looked away. “Besides,” he said, “wouldn’t it look suspicious, after I broke it off with you in public? Why would I still be wearing your token?”

“Because your king asked you to,” Eugenides said sharply.

“And why on earth would you ask me to?” Costis shot back. “Pride?”

Eugenides stubbornly said nothing.

“And if you asked me to, it would be seen as a sign of your favor, which doesn’t do much for your image as Attolia’s devoted consort,” Costis continue. He didn’t understand why Eugenides was acting like this. Had he forgotten what all of this was for? “Why do you even care?”

“Just because it didn’t mean anything to you doesn’t mean that—”

“What?” Costis stared at him, and Eugenides stared back, pale-faced and wide-eyed.

“What?” he said back, almost mockingly. Costis tried his best not to get angry.

Instead, he said: “It didn’t mean anything to _me_?”

“You’re acting like it was nothing, months of interaction that just meant nothing,” Gen said, and Costis couldn’t help himself.

“That’s because it was!” he shouted back. “That’s all it ever was, that’s all it was ever supposed to be. I thought we were friends by the end of it, but friends don’t give each other watches as tokens.”

“Friends?” Gen said, voice tight. “Only friends?”

“ _What the hell else were you expecting_?”

No response, but Gen wouldn’t make eye contact.

“I don’t understand,” Costis said, and he cursed the quaver in his own voice. “What conversation are we having, Eugenides? We’re the only ones in this room. No one else is here, so why are you still pretending?”

“I’m not _pretending_ ,” Eugenides snarled, so forcefully that Costis took a step back. “I stopped pretending months ago.”

It was like the ceiling had caved in and fallen on his head. Costis couldn’t breathe. “I—” he said, and couldn’t get out anything else. He felt like he’d been punched, and he sounded like it too. “I don’t.” He stumbled back, because he couldn’t be here right now, he couldn’t look at Eugenides without—

“Costis—”

“No,” Costis said. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I have to go.” He saw Gen flinch, but he couldn’t think about that right now, he couldn’t think at all.

He ran.

 

Costis ran until he reached a narrow corridor halfway across the castle from the king’s quarters, with no idea how he’d gotten there.

Aris found him there, collapsed on a bench in an alcove, halfway to hyperventilating and with his head in his hands.

“Oh, Costis,” he said sadly, and sat down next to him.

“What am I doing, Aris?” Costis asked him. Thankfully, his voice was muffled by his hands, otherwise Aris would’ve been able to hear how hoarse it was. Even so, he probably wasn’t fooled. “I thought I could do this, but I don’t think I can.”

All he got back was silence, so he lifted his head. Aris was gazing at him thoughtfully. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It was fake,” Aris said, and it wasn’t a question.

Costis caught his breath. “What do you mean?”

“Your relationship with the Th--with the king. It was fake, wasn’t it?”

He could lie. He had become better at lying over the past few months. He probably should lie; knowledge of the plot could ruin _everything_.

But Aris didn’t sound shocked, or angry. He sounded like he had suspected for a while, and more than that, he sounded sympathetic. So.

“Yes,” Costis said, a whispered confession into his knees. “Gods, yes. But.”

“But...?” Aris prompted, hesitant.

“Only at first.” Costis shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it. “I can’t.”

Aris sighed. “Okay,” he said. “All right, we don’t have to talk about it. Probably better if we don’t, huh?”

Costis nodded.

“Okay,” Aris said again. “Do you want me to stay, or?”

“You should go,” Costis said, straightening up and scrubbing a hand over his stinging eyes. “I’ll be fine. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be fine.”

Aris knocked shoulders with him and stood up. “I’ll head back, then. Come find me tonight, when I’m off duty, and we’ll talk.”

Costis didn’t really want to, but he agreed.

And then he was alone, again, with nothing but his regrets and doubts to keep him company. “I’m such a fool,” he said hollowly, and put his head down again.

Five minutes later, someone sat down next to him again.

“Aris,” he said huffily, “I said I’ll be fine.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” Attolia said, and Costis almost laughed, because wasn’t that just his luck?

He lifted his head. “My queen,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Irene smiled at him. Slowly, she reached out and cupped his cheek with one hand, thumb brushing just under his eye. He probably had tear tracks there. “My dear,” she said, fond and sounding so much like her husband that Costis felt his eyes start to sting again. “Why should you be sorry?”

“I tried,” Costis said. He sounded like he was choking. “I tried, my queen, I did, but I couldn’t. I can’t.”

Dimly, he noticed that they weren’t alone. Of course they weren’t--the queen had a squad from the Third with her at all times. But it was only a few men (the rest must be nearby), and they were men from Costis’s old squad; he could trust them. They stood in a cluster around him and the queen, on the off chance that anyone entered this deserted hallway.

“Shh,” Irene said, and pulled him into an embrace. He put his head on her shoulder, pressing closer until all he could smell was jasmine, and all he could hear was her pulse, steady and grounding. Slowly, his breath began to calm. She wasn’t angry. Why wasn’t she angry?

“Why aren’t you angry?” he asked into her collarbone.

“How could I be angry at you for loving him?” she said. “It’s not as if I didn’t know.”

She was still pretending. Cosis pulled away, protesting, “My queen—”

Irene grabbed his wrist and he stilled. “I’ve always known,” she said firmly, looking him straight in the eye. She wasn’t pretending. “Just as I’ve always known how he felt about you.”

“My queen,” he said, in the most disbelieving tone he could manage.

“Eugenides told you, didn’t he?” Her thumb was stroking lightly over the thin skin of his wrist, and he shivered. “He told you that he loved you.”

Costis shook his head. “No,” he said, but his voice was faltering.

“Oh, but he does,” Irene said seriously. “We both do, Costis. You _have_ to believe me.”

He shook his head again weakly, but didn’t argue. His heart was pounding in his throat, he couldn’t speak, and it was very, very difficult to argue with Irene.

Quietly, the guards shifted to more effectively shield them. Costis thought that maybe they shouldn’t be talking about this in front of them, but if Irene had decided it was all right, it had to be. It would be fine.

“I know you probably don’t feel for me the way you do for him,” Irene continued, and oh, maybe Costis could speak after all.

“Of course I do,” he said. “You know I do, you know I’ve loved you for years. _Everyone_ knows.”

“Not really,” Irene said patiently. “Not in the same way.”

“In _exactly_ the same way,” Costis said hotly, leaning in. “How can you not know? How can you not know what I want?”

Irene stared at him, eyes huge and dark in her beautiful face. He loved her so much it hurt. How could she not know? “And what do you want?”

_Everything_ , Costis thought.

He pulled away from her. Ignored the flash of hurt in her eyes, saw it turn to shock as he slipped off the bench and onto his knees at her feet.

“Costis?” Irene asked, her voice very quiet.

Costis pressed his forehead into her knee and squeezed his eyes shut. “This,” he said. “Just this.”

She was silent and still for long enough that Costis felt himself start to tremble. If she said no—

—but then he felt a hand brush through his hair, and shuddered with relief. Fingers stroked down the side of his face and lifted his chin until he had to open his eyes and look up.

“Good,” Irene said, composure finally cracking, and Costis felt something like joy start to fill his chest. She leaned forward to touch her forehead to his, and he exhaled in a rush. “Gods,” she said, “I want to give you everything.”

“Irene,” Costis said, eyes falling closed again. He felt drunk.

She cursed, and before he knew what was happening, Costis was being kissed to within an inch of his life.

_Oh_ , he thought, and even his thoughts sounded breathless. Distantly, he considered panicking, but again came to the conclusion that if Irene had decided it would be all right, then it would.

 

Irene led Costis back to the royal quarters, glaring at him when he tried to protest.

“But shouldn’t you be off being queen?” he asked, and she quirked a smile at him. The tender, warm look was gone from her face as they passed through some more populated parts of the castle, but Costis didn’t mind. He could still see it in her eyes.

“Yes,” Irene said, “I’m holding court in a half hour. But I want you to wait for me.”

“Alone?” _In the queen’s quarters?_.

Irene looked at him sidelong. “Not alone, no.”

Costis blushed. “Oh.”

They reached her quarters shortly after, and left the squad in the guardroom before entering the queen’s inner chambers.

The sitting room was empty, but Irene just smiled and pushed open the door to her bedchamber, beckoning silently for Costis to follow when he hung back.

And there, as promised, was Eugenides, lying on his back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Did you find him?” he asked, without looking. “Is he ok? Did he say anything?”

“Ask him yourself,” Irene responded, sitting down in the chair by the window.

Eugenides sat up very quickly, eyes finding Costis standing awkwardly by the door. “Costis?” he asked.

“I’m sorry for running,” Costis said, and winced at how tremulous his voice was. “I was scared.”

“It’s okay.” Eugenides’s eyes were wide and very bright. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Okay,” Costis said back inanely. Irene snorted.

“I,” Eugenides began, stopped. Started again. “I gave you the watch for the same reason I gave Irene hers.” He smiled crookedly. “A selfish, possessive impulse, really. I just wanted to see you wearing something of _mine_.”

Costis inhaled and looked down, feeling his cheeks grow warm. “Well,” he said, and reached inside his coat. He glanced at Gen from beneath his lashes as he drew the watch out from within. “I haven’t been wearing it, but not because I didn’t want it.”

“Then why?”

“Because I thought it was just for show,” Costis said with a self-effacing laugh. “I couldn’t bear to leave it behind, so I kept it with me. But I couldn’t bear to wear it either, not when I wanted more than anything to be yours for real.”

“ _Costis_ ,” Eugenides said, pained. “Come over here, please.”

Costis went.

He took off his boots and then sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“Come on,” Gen said, grabbing his arm and pulling him off balance. “Closer.”

“Okay, okay,” Costis said, laughing despite himself. He scooted closer until his thigh was pressed against Gen’s. “Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” Gen said warmly, and brushed Costis’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You kept the watch.”

“Yes,” Costis said hoarsely. He swallowed.

“Does that mean that you’re mine?” Gen asked, brushing back the hair from Costis’s face.

Costis looked toward the window, where Irene was watching them, eyes dark. “Not just yours.”

“No,” Gen breathed, sounding awed, sounding like he couldn’t believe his luck. Costis could recognize it; he felt the same. “Of course not. Ours?”

“Yours,” Costis said, and Gen was smiling even as he kissed him. Costis smiled even as he kissed back.

“Good,” Irene said, and stood up. “I have to go be queen,” she said, “but please continue to be good while I’m gone.” She raised an eyebrow in suggestion.

Costis covered his face, and Gen pouted. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I’m asking you to,” Irene said firmly. Then slyly, she added, “And because poor Costis looks like he’s going to expire from embarrassment.”

Gen dropped the pout and laughed, collapsing back on the bed. “Dearest Costis,” he said, and Costis ducked his head to hide a smile at the reminder. “Whatever shall we do with you?”

“Whatever you want,” Costis said, painfully honest, and Gen stared up at him with shining eyes. “But I’m very tired right now.”

“A nap sounds nice,” Eugenides said.

“I’m leaving,” Irene said with mock exasperation.

“Okay,” Eugenides said placidly, but he tilted his head up for the kiss she bestowed on him.

Then she leaned over and kissed Costis too, and he closed his eyes and felt like he was floating. “Please come back soon,” he said, too tired and too happy to filter his thoughts.

“I will,” Irene promised, and brushed another kiss over his forehead.

Costis heard the door swing open and shut. Poor Irene--she was going to hold court, where rumors and tales of their relationship had probably already spread. She would be dauntless and terrifying, but the facts would get twisted and distributed anyway. They’d all have to deal with that (the stares, the whispers, the insults and threats) in the morning, and for the months and years to come.

But for today at least—

The late morning sun was filtering through the wooden shutters, and Costis turned sleepily into the warmth of Eugenides’s body. It was barely an hour since he had helped his king get dressed this morning, but so much had changed since then. He pressed closer.

Gen hummed and wrapped himself around Costis like a particularly affectionate vine. Costis smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.

“Thank you,” he said.

Gen shushed him. “Stop thinking so much and go to sleep,” he said, and how could Costis disobey an order from his king?

He slept, settling in to wait for their queen to come back.

**Author's Note:**

> i've been writing this fic for over six months, but it's been in my head for longer (it started as an offhand conversation with my sister in the car, and well, spun out of control). as always, eternal love and gratitude to grim_lupine and plalligator for dealing with my whining and general messiness <3333
> 
> also a million thank yous to my twitter friends :) for reassuring me that somebody actually cared about this nonsense <33333
> 
> AU notes:
> 
> \- Gen and Irene meet as children. in _The Queen of Attolia_ , Gen describes the first time he saw Irene, and how he fell in love with her. in this fic, that still happened--only instead of watching from afar, he says hello
> 
> \- the events of _The Thief_ all still happen, except that Irene and Gen have to do a little play-acting at the end
> 
> \- five years before the fic takes place (approximately when _The Queen of Attolia_ takes place) treaty negotiations between Eddis and Attolia began. they progressed quickly because both countries were faced with a war against Sounis. this is when most people think Gen and Irene met
> 
> \- some of the events of _A Conspiracy of Kings_ happen, as well. mostly the stuff about Sophos getting kidnapped and then eventually taking his place as king.
> 
> \- together, the three countries drive off the Mede and discourage them from trying again for at least a decade or so

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] couldn't fit in only black and white](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101072) by [knight_tracer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knight_tracer/pseuds/knight_tracer)




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